The Star Empire: The Succession of Magic
by RahXephon
Summary: REPOST and CONTINUATION. Personal defeats had warped Harry's psyche, causing him to grow violent and be exiled into space. Many centuries later, he wakes up to a solar system devoid of magic but infested with piracy and decay. The last human wizard tries to find a purpose in this bleak future, all the while confronting the legacy of his rampage. Dark!Harry, AU, OC.
1. Part I: The Boy-Who-Left - Repost

March 26, 2011  
**Repost**: October 24, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** This entry is a repost and continuation of a previous upload where some explicit content is scrubbed. I had to delete my previous story when the infamous fanfiction purge on July 2012 began due to very dark and sexual content, making me lose most of my reviews, favorites and alerts. Do note that none of my chapters are properly proofread, and many errors may still remain. I'm not changing much so those who have read this fic before do not need to do so again.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and its associated terms and trademarks are authored by J.K. Rowling, the copyright holder of the novel series. I do not in any shape or form claim to have authorization to write a derivative work based on the Harry Potter franchise.

**WARNING:** This fic will contain descriptions or references to questionable and distasteful material, such as murder, child abuse, slavery, exploitation and probably a lot of other nasty things that are perpetrated by either Harry or someone else.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_**PART I: The Degeneration**_

_The Boy-Who-Left_

* * *

Rape and pillage. That was her calling. It seemed such a distasteful occupation for a rising woman such as Claris. Heck, the way her uniform snuggly hugged her figure, the rowdy crew of the ship should have jumped her already. Nevertheless, no one dared to touch her desirable body. As it should be.

'_Thank the multiverse that men are still able to use their brains in this age.'_

Lust was a weapon, and the pirate officer wielded it like a finely honed edge. Manipulating those around her in was trivial task. A simple brush of the hand along the cheek. An opportune stretch that happened to accentuate her modest assets. A dazzling smile while maintaining eye contact seconds longer than was the custom. All of these actions and more provoked and excited the dimwitted pirates around her like wild animals. She was a prize that they could not conquer, a fruit they could not taste. Simply dangling her carefully chosen fragrance in front of their noses was enough to ensure their loyalty, if not their compliance.

'_Enough to make them do everything I want.'_ She thought with a smile.

Oh, she wasn't deluded enough to make an attempt on the ship. For one, captaining a pirate ship effectively asked for brutality, not subtlety. Two, the captain himself was quite a formidable individual. He possessed enough experience resist her charms. Someone with his vast experience had probably beaten back a dozen mutinies.

Besides, she did not even want to take over the ship.

Acting as the captain's unofficial second allowed her to garner most of the benefits of being in command but without exposing herself to the risks. All the bounties and arrest warrants were usually aimed towards the captain. As far as the authorities were concerned, the rest of the crew were beneath their notice. If the captain ever ran into trouble he couldn't escape from, Claris and the rest of the crew would sooner as not bug out and leave him out to dry.

Until that happened, she planned to live out comfortably with her officer's share of the earnings along with a smattering of stolen luxuries. New Cuban cigars, fine Malagarian rugs, the most enchanting non-Earth jewels – nothing of want was far from her grasp. She lived like a prince.

That was not to say she was without talent. Everyone on the ship had to contribute. No one tolerated freeloaders. The captain was an experienced veteran in the trade, and his solid if unspectacular success had drawn a score of dependable scoundrels, with Claris herself as the crown jewel. While her ability to command wasn't exceptional, her ingenuity with sensors and information management made her a valuable part of the crew.

As a veritable sensor and information specialist (with highly expensive and illicit implants to boot), she contributed immensely to the captain's success. She could penetrate through the thickest of interference, identify vulnerabilities and spot cloaked positions within a heartbeat. Her connections within the mercenary underground allowed her to receive word of juicy but little known targets of opportunity earlier than her rivals. All this and more had earned her the gratitude of the captain. If he didn't like her occasional machinations on his men, well, at least he didn't complain.

Normally speaking, female lieutenants such as Claris often had to sacrifice a little dignity. Some captains were more forceful than others. Fortunately for her, she had chosen her posting carefully after scoping out the best of unsavory captains. Most men would have taken her as a concubine – or worse, a whore. Female captains were little better, usually growing jealous and wrathful at her beauty. They would eventually seek ways to humiliate her, or get rid of her pretty ass entirely.

Captain Hargrave was the best of the bunch. He was experienced, if a bit cautious, but proved solid in the face of adversity. Oh, he had his vicious anger bursts like any other big-time pirate, but he only revealed that side if the shit really hit the fan. He also wasn't above becoming physical in his frustrations, but he never resorted to crippling wounds. Many other pirate captains wouldn't hesitate to poke out an eye or cut off a few fingers. Hargrave was a man who adhered to both the stick and carrot. His leadership kept his mobile carrier at peak efficiency, or as much as possible with a crew of undisciplined outlaws.

As for his preferences, well, what could she say? He left the dames alone, letting the men under him have their violent way with them. The little boys however... the younger, the better. No one, not even the hardest criminals among the crew wanted to learn what happened to in the confines of his cabin. It didn't matter much to Claris. Those saucy young virgins were pretty much dead anyway. Hargrave didn't involve himself in the hostage or slave trading business. Keeping prisoners alive was too risky and was bound to raise emotions among the families of the hostages. Some of them might even commission rescue parties. He decided it was better to keep only material goods, and throw everything else out of the airlock. After having your way with them of course.

'_The captain always keeps the best lads for himself. He could have passed a few of those yummy treats to me.'_

A firm, wrinkled hand landed on Claris' shoulder. The command ring that mastered all of the ship's ultimate controls gleamed dully in the overhead omnilighting. The fingers dug into her flesh, drawing her attention back to the present. She suppressed the urge to slap the hand away and instead turned her head to face her captain.

"Aye, sir?"

"It's almost time. I want you to suit up and lead the secondary boarding party."

'_WHAT? Participate in a boarding action? Is he crazy!'_

"But sir! I'm a bridge officer! I'm not even trained in boarding combat!"

The hand gripped the muscles of her shoulder even tighter. "No time like the present, Claris. You've been cooped up the bridge for so many hours that it's a wonder you can even walk under gravity. A little grit in your stomach will shape you up nicely."

It was no use arguing any further with Hargrave. The captain could be whimsical sometimes, making the oddest and most banal orders, either for the fun of it, or to deliver some undue punishment. Claris wasn't sure which applied to her current situation.

"Besides," The captain continued. "You were the one that scoped out this target. If there's anyone who deserves a shot at this mark, it's you."

'_Gee, thanks.'_ Claris thought as she released the straps that held her to her seat at the sensors station. Another specialist left his own seat to take up her station in return.

Throwing a sloppy salute to her superior, she turned and left for her quarters. She entered the luxuriously carpeted room that she called her home and opened her oversized closets. Amongst all the dresses, uniforms, shawls and other fashions rested a box that contained her valuable boarding armor. With ruthless efficiency she discarded her scarlet uniform and began the patient task of strapping on the modular components of her powered armor.

Her boarding armor was a welcome prize. She received it after Hargrave ambushed an unsuspecting military courier roughly a standard year ago. Though he struck the ship mainly to raid its protected databanks, the VIP on board was an added bonus. The naval officer had the same size and build as Claris, which proved to be a delight to the crew who wanted to ravage their sensor officer's lookalike.

Claris didn't mind. The HyperCyst Naval Combat Armor Version 3.2 that used to belong to the officer was fully vacuum capable and could withstand up to Class II weapon impacts. That was better than most of armors the rest of the boarding crew had available. Most standard suits could withstand only a handful Class II impacts and only if they were properly maintained.

As she finished suiting up the refurbished scarlet armor, she picked up her decorated helmet and left for the docking bay, passing a few crew members along the way. They nodded respectfully at her, even more so since she looked more imposing than usual. A few of the ex-military washouts even threw a hasty salute, not that she cared. _'Leave the etiquette to the civilized. No need to salute amongst animals.'_

The usual dozen that comprised the boarding crew looked up in surprise at her presence. As they prepared their equipment and the boarding capsules they would be riding in, the squad of twelve had been clearly in their element. Claris' arrival obviously disrupted their routine.

The woman calmly stepped forward to relay her orders to the assembled boarders. She did her best to hide her doubts and fears.

The leading boarding officer, Gerchev, grimaced at the news. _'Fucking captain, what the hell am I suppose to do with an amateur? It doesn't matter how pretty her armor is if she just gets in our way._'

He spat out some of the leafy gunk he was chewing on and regarded her disgust. "So the cap's doing another one of his hair-brained schemes? Figures."

When Claris didn't respond, he shrugged and faced his secondary squad. "Rainer, you heard the news. It's back to second fiddle on this job."

Turning back to Claris, Gerchev laid a withering stare to the woman who would act as his second on this mission. "You might lead six of my men, but they're _mine_, not yours. The moment you act up Rainer won't hesitate to take over, you hear?"

Nodding, Claris left the bunch alone and decided to supervise the preparation of her boarding capsule instead. There was nothing to gain by saying anything more. The boarding crew was a close bunch. They did everything together and never allowed any outsiders to join their circle of friends. She could depend on their word, though not their affection. They wouldn't throw out a limb to save her from a difficult fix but she could manage by herself. As long as she kept her head low and let the crew do their own thing, none of them had to suffer.

Claris could work with that. All she cared about was rape and pillage. The latter more than the former, of course. It was hard for outsiders to imagine she was even capable of raping men, but piracy was a gender-neutral occupation, and others soon learned what torture she could unleash. Sex with her was the only pleasure she could grant her victims before they met their demise in space.

* * *

The intern clumsily bumped the overhanging scanner tool against the large crystal, eliciting a loud thunk that rung throughout the entire lab.

"JOHNSON!" The professor roared, ripping his grey-haired head towards the unfortunate assistant. Dropping his holopad, he stomped over to the source of the incident and ripped the frightened assistant from the sample. "Get out!"

"But professor—"

"OUT!" The old man roared.

The young man could do nothing else but scamper away. The professor sighed and brushed his sweaty hands against the fabric of his clean white lab coat. With a steady hand the professor took over control of the scanning implement and finished the menial job of mapping out the crystal's interior himself. The other researchers weren't stupid enough to offer a hand. They were well aware of his obsessive need to do things right.

The overhead screen updated the results of the radiological scans. A myriad of radiation and particles – all safe and non-lethal, of course – penetrated through the unknown crystal's surface only to encounter further interference. From what, nobody knew, but that was what they were all itching to find out. Not even the hardiest of high-grade hull armor proved to be this resistant to high-powered precision scans. If they could crack the secrets of their crystal's remarkable secrets, they could develop a new class of scan-resistant coating that might earn them billions of credits in royalties alone.

Not that Professor Zhang held any interest in such base pursuits.

If one shone a bright light through the blue-ish surface, that person would be able to observe a murky silhouette in the center of the horse-sized crystal. The profile was too indistinguishable to identify what lay buried beneath, but it provided enough hints for Zhang to extrapolate that it probably contained a great treasure.

After all, a crystal tougher than diamond by an unimaginable factor and composed of unknown materials had to carry many secrets. Its discovery alone was unprecedented in human history and would outshine all previous discoveries of extrasolar material. Zhang could conceive no natural process that could form such a resilient and uniformly shaped object. The construct might even be artificial in nature.

It was a long shot, a ridiculous thought really, but if he could somehow divine the secrets of this giant crystal, he might find clues to the intelligence that might have shaped it. An intelligence that may very well be alien, for no human knowledge could shape such a magnificent creation.

His fellow researchers and subordinates had no idea of the profoundness of this singular work of art. They were ignorant to its implications, blind to the suggestions that lay underneath. They thought only of the payout this discovery would deliver, not knowing the potential the crystal could grant something greater. This discovery could grant them praise, acknowledgement and a permanent record in the long list of human achievement. In short, _immortality_.

Zhang was determined to be remembered in the likes of Einstein or Alexander the Great.

Sadly, the scans showed nothing except what he already had in abundance: interference.

"What in the blasted hells is WRONG with this machine!"

The foul-tempered professor kicked at the terminal in frustration. The machine, well hardened in case of such occurrences, hardly made a beep in response.

Dr. Selner was the only researcher present with the seniority to reply. Relishing the opportunity to be away from her husband's shadow, she brought valuable connections to the expedition. "This only proves the material's value. I thought you would be more excited by this outcome. Perhaps no ship-borne scanner is capable of penetrating the crystal. We're only a week away from Gellard-15. I'm sure their more powerful terrestrial scanners would be able to tell us more of the sample."

While Zhang wanted to retort that he couldn't wait a week, he knew intellectually that there was no other option. They had spent days throwing every diagnostic tool they had on hand onboard the research vessel at the object to no avail. For better or worse, they needed better facilities.

Letting out one last kick, Zhang stormed out of the lab, leaving the remaining researchers without any further guidance.

Selner just shrugged her shoulders. "Back to work people, we might not be able to do much, but at least we can lay the groundwork for the boys at Gellard-15."

The silhouette continued to rest inside the crystalline coffin, oblivious to the excitement it was generating amongst the crew of the vessel.

* * *

The prowl had taken up a standard day. The _Eviscerator_ had stalked the _Helical Visage_ for many hours within the shadows of the massive Jupiter belt. It was child's play to keep herself hidden from the research vessel's civilian-grade sensors, especially with the abundance of asteroids and space dust. The captain and his command had extensively studied the specifications of their prey's class and had drawn up the most optimal plan to approach and attack the valuable ship.

As long as the _Visage_ kept her powerful spectral telescopes and resource scanners idle, there was little chance she could spot the approaching little pirate carrier. Even if she somehow detected the _Eviscerator_, there was little hope for escape. Still, detection would give their victims time to prepare, something Captain Hargrave was loath to grant. Their prey might have it in their heads to destroy whatever bountiful treasure they were rumored to possess.

With patience born out of habit, the compact bulldog-shape of the mobile carrier crept ever closer to the bulkier but defenseless shape of her mark. Using the tumbling asteroids and the debilitating effects of Jupiter's mass, the pirates leapfrogged their way until they overtook the _Visage_'s predicted course.

Then, the subtlety of a sledgehammer, the pirates jumped into the path of their mark and launched their two sole boarding capsules from the _Eviscerator_'s oversized torpedo tube. Potent fuel charges burst from the back of the capsules, propelling them swiftly towards the dumbstruck science ship. Only halfway on their short journey did the _Visage_ finally make an attempt to dodge.

Hargrave had expected this, and pushed his mobile carrier quickly into combat range to put a stop to the _Visage_'s antics. The old but reliable Reaper heavy varilaser cannon burst its electromagnetic beams with pinpoint accuracy. The Reaper was set to a deliberately underpowered setting to avoid causing structural damage while simultaneously allowing for a higher cycle time and a much lower heat buildup. The gunners operating the varilaser cannon were hitting all the preselected subsystems, disabling sensors, communication towers and other miscellaneous exterior systems.

The _Eviscerator_'s secondary weapons finally came into range as well. Hargrave opened fire with all of his forward facing armaments. The pulsed particle turrets aided the main cannon in eliminating anything that their prey could use to escape or fight with a barrage of miniature energy projectiles. The carrier's sole torpedo launcher opened up with a canister that soon burst into short-range guided cluster rockets that quickly circled round their prey to strike at the research vessel's vulnerable engines.

The pirate ship's final arsenal emerged from the rear of the pirate ship. A hangar bay retracted, letting out the ship's most versatile weapons, her two heavy interceptors. They launched from the belly of the pirate carrier and patrolled the battlescape. Hargrave had no need for their firepower, but their presence would help intimidate the crew of the _Helical Visage _into surrender.

Not that they stood a chance in the first place.

* * *

The Asian professor slammed his fist against the schematic table. Years of scouring Jupiter's orbit and months of excavating the enigmatic crystal from a radioactive asteroid had all been for nothing. Of all that Murphy's fucking Law could throw at him, it had to be fucking pirates.

Red lights continued to blink while sirens were busy blowing everyone's eardrums off. Zhang flicked his fingers against the surface of the command table and manually cut the power to the annoying alarms. By now everyone knew of the impending threat. No need to destroy all their sensory organs.

_'Still, pirates! How did they even come across the Helical Visage?'_

The solar system stretched billions of cubic kilometers of space. The section of the Jupiter belt they were in was nowhere near civilized space. The _Visage_ kept its emissions profile low and locked down any external communication signals. By all rights, no one but the crew and the Exploration Society should have known their location.

Unless…

'_Jealous brats! We've been ratted out!'_

The intercom bleared a ship-wide announcement just as the first attacked impacted on the ship. "This is Captain Jorne! Our ship is under heavy assault by pirates. They have a single mobile carrier and two heavy fighters. We do not stand a chance against them. Our sensors and communications systems have already been taken out and the engines will follow soon no doubt. I have offered our unconditional surrender but they are unwilling to respond. For the moment, we will likely be boarded at any moment. Considering that this is Captain Hargrave's ship, I can only surmise we cannot expect any mercy. Make peace with yourselves. I intend to fight this to the end. Captain out."

While every lab researcher looked around with panic or despair, Zhang felt nothing but utter rage. "NO! I will not have my work taken away like this! Not like this!"

He rounded towards the nearest person and lifted the doctor by his shirt. "You! Tell me what defenses does this ship have?"

"None! We're strictly civilian and neutral! All Exploration Society ships are prohibited from carrying any ship-board weapons in order to maintain neutrality."

"Fucking _idiots!_"

Though Zhang should have considered more carefully before accepting a post on an unescorted ship, he had been too enamored by the prospect of great discoveries to care. Now it all came back to bite him in the ass. Grunting in helpless fury, he threw down the unfortunate scientist and went back to his command table. Instantly he opened up a multitude of tabs and input boxes, reconfiguring the modules in his lab. A short moment later, the blast doors shut into place, locking out the entrance. A minute later, a handful of scanners and analyzers began to orient themselves towards the doors.

"What are you doing professor?" Dr. Selner cried out as she rushed forward, only to be rudely shoved to the floor. "If we show resistance the pirates might _kill_ us! We don't have any chance!"

But Zhang ignored his colleague. "Don't you know anything? Captain Hargrave is that notorious pedophile pirate. Do you really think he will show us mercy when you know what he does to children?"

His words only compounded the hopelessness of their situation.

"I don't know about you _cowards_, but I'm not going down without a fight!" The professor went back to reprogramming the scanning equipment, feeding it massive amounts of power. "The lab is rated to withstand a small nuclear explosion. Granted, it is meant to contain such an explosion from within, but the armor is enough to force the bastards to come through the doors instead of the walls. And while our scanning equipment isn't meant to be used as weapons, they have the potential to give those pirates a nasty surprise."

The senior scientist paused in his work and glanced towards his co-workers. "So are you going to let them kill you, or are you going to fight back and take a few of those bastards down with you?"

Somehow, his vindictive tone snapped most of them out of their daze. They helped Zhang reconfigure everything that could be used as a deadly tool into a weapon. A handful of interns and assistants barricaded the entrance and stacked tables and chairs for cover. The machine operators repurposed surgery lasers into cutting beams and the radiological scanners into makeshift gamma emitters. Even the X-Ray emitter was taken from its overhead fixture in order to act as a giant radiation gun. It would short out fast with the amount of energy pumped through its circuits, but even a few seconds would help. The overwhelming sense of desperation urged them to fight back in one, last moment of defiance.

'_We might not get out alive, but I'm sure as hell not going to let my buddies in the Exploration Society have the last laugh.'_ Zhang thought as he moved the crystal he had been studying towards the center of the room to act as an anchor.

* * *

Lieutenant Claris barely had time to blink before the capsule crashed through the flimsy hull of their target. The impact jarred everyone inside the capsule. Fortunately for everyone, its oversized inertial dampeners helped prevent much potential injury. Claris barely had time to stretch out her kinks before one of her subordinates undid her straps and shoved her out the capsule. The sudden motion almost caused her to vomit out her lunch.

"Fuck.." She muttered to herself as her visor adjusted itself to the interior of the ship. Maps, schematics, and other details flowed through her HUD, most of it irrelevant to her immediate needs. "Shit."

"Get yourself together, lieutenant." Rainer murmered gruffly as he took hold of her shoulders and slammed her back against the bulkhead. "Are you ready to lead your squad or do we have to leave you behind?"

Claris punched Rainer's helmet in order to create some space. "Don't fuck with me Rainer. Now get out of my way and secure our objective."

"Aye aye." The men and women grumbled. The seven intruders marched purposely through the corridors on their way to their first target, the engine room. They arrived fast enough to prevent any sabotage like self-destructing the reactor core. Their pulse rifles cut down anyone within with ease as none of the engineers even bothered to wear hardened suits. If they did, then Claris' squad would have been forced to bring out their heavier arsenal, potentially damaging their sensitive surroundings. A stray grenade might damage the main reactor and cause it to blow up. Even if that wouldn't occur, they didn't want to scratch the ship. A working vessel of any kind fetched a good price on the black market and they intended to milk out the _Helical Visage_ for all her worth.

"_Engine room secure."_

The captain's voice quickly appeared over the private commandnet. _"Leave a guard behind and move on to the next objective."_

Claris did as she was told and resumed their hunt with five of her men. They headed towards the environmental section. The men inside were harder to eliminate, courtesy of their armored biohazard suits and whatever makeshift pistols they managed to smuggle in. One of her men decided to throw a pulse grenade, which flash-burned an unfortunate crewman while blinding the rest momentarily. Not long, but enough to take the opportunity to storm their position and take them out without any further fuss.

"_Environmentals secure."_

Gerchev sounded in as well. _"Bridge secure. Put up a nasty fight, some injured, no dead."_

"_Right._" Hargrave replied, before continuing, _"Excellent work. Gerchev, sweep up the corridors and bunks. No prisoners. Claris, storm the lab and take out whoever's left. This should be easy. Out."_

For a moment, Claris felt surprised that her team was chosen to take out the eggheads. Storming a lab required a delicate and experienced touch, because most of the sensitive materials within fetched quite a prize on the open market. She realized that this might as well be a test. She couldn't afford to disappoint her captain.

They moved carefully up the ship. The corridors and other small enclosures were prone to ambushes. Checking all those compartments was probably more dangerous than clearing out a lab full of defenseless dorks. Not that she tried to underestimate academics, but it was hard to imagine they could do anything lethal, like aiming a pistol in the right direction.

'_They probably need to calculate their firing angle before they even begin to pull the trigger.'_

As they finally arrived at the entrance of the science room, they positioned themselves on either sides and prepared to barge inside. Rainer pressed the command to open, but the hatch refused to budge.

"Damn geeks, they hacked the door controls. Looks like we have to do this the hard way."

"Right." Claris said, and considered her options. "Doesn't matter if we make a hard entry. The lab is big enough that a single explosion wouldn't damage all their equipment. Place the explosive charges and back off. We go in as soon as they go off."

Two of the boarders placed their doorbusters and backed off to a good distance. They handed over control for the triggers to Claris. After a short countdown, she initiated the charges.

_Boom!_

Heat, dust, smoke and other particles filled up the corridor. Unfazed by all the dust and confident in their armor, the boarding crew stormed forward to enter the lab, firing as they went. All of them were ready to eliminate anyone within. Still, the outcome wasn't guaranteed.

For unknown to all of them, a certain blue crystal began to glow in ominous pulses.

* * *

Once, there was a boy. There was nothing special about this boy if you discounted his parentage. He was just a happy little boy that did just what every little boy his age did, sleep and eat.

Then a certain prophecy came into being, spoken by a diviner of uncertain talents and results. This prophecy was spoken to one of the wisest and most powerful wizards of this age. It was also spoken in the presence of a betrayer.

The betrayer relayed a portion of this prophecy to his master, a rather dark and vile Lord with a capacity of unrestrained malice. It spoke of this Lord's defeat.

The Lord decided that this prophecy could not come to pass.

Thus the Lord worked to act against the terms. There were two potential targets. Both were attacked, including the household of the little boy.

During the massacre of its parents, the boy miraculously repelled a being far more powerful and dangerous. It would have been simpler to just drop a rock on the kid.

The defeat of the dark Lord brought jubilation to the world, the Wizarding kind at least. The boy was hailed as a hero, and became hence-known as the Boy-Who-Lived.

One would expect that the Boy-Who-Lived would live the rest of his life in splendor, and many wizards thought this to be the case. None of it was any further from the truth.

In actuality, the Boy-Who-Lived lived in a very oppressive household. The Boy-Who-Lived barely smiled, if at all, and was treated more akin to a slave than a human being. You could say the boy barely lived at all.

So, when this Boy-Who-Lived was introduced to Hogwarts and the rest the Wizarding World, he was wholly unprepared, let alone ready to face the challenges he would face in the seven years of his attendance. He faced insurmountable dangers, suffered unavoidable tragedies and overcame impossible challenges until finally the truth came out. He was shoved forward to take care of the Dark Lord once and for all.

Through the use of the dreaded instruments known as the Hallows, the Boy-Who-Lived persevered. Having rid the world of the dark lord's unholy soul fragments, the boy known as the Boy-Who-Lived was finally able to fulfill the largest purpose of his life. He vanquished over his greatest enemy. The Wizarding World celebrated for a second time, this time more jubilantly. The Boy-Who-Lived received much gratitude and quickly became known as the Boy-Who-Vanquished, the Boy-Who-Turned-Victorious or simply the Boy-Who-Won.

Now normally, such a simple tale would end as a happy ending where the hero gets the girl, become married, have children and see them attend the same school as their parents.

This is not that tale.

You see, the Boy-Who-Won, now a man, but still very much a boy, became a little _too_ famous, or shall we say, notorious. He could not rid himself of the powerful instruments he had used in his struggle. They were drawing much attention. The Hallows, once regarded as a simple tale of morality, were now very much real, and blinding in their ability to attract the greedy.

Duels, ambushes and assassinations became the norm. The Boy-Who-Won would continually test his hard-won title, racking up tallies as he defeated more and more of those who conspired to take away his instruments. Seeing as there was no realistic possibility of defeating a boy who had rightfully earned the title Boy-Who-Won, his enemies began to plot a way of defeating an undefeatable opponent.

They worked to kidnap and threaten those the Boy-Who-Won cared about. Thus followed a series of gruesome events that would define the rest of the boy's life. The murder of his wife, the slaughter of the family of redheads, and the massacre of his few remaining cousins and aunts were all intentional attacks meant to crack the boy's resolve. Even the one family he did not care about at all had been eliminated.

The atrocities enraged the Boy-Who-Won, and drove him to retaliate in a manner unbecoming of a hero. The Wizarding World was shocked, but sympathized with their savior and pledged their unilateral support to see the villains brought to justice.

Yet the Boy-Who-Won wasn't interested in justice. He slew ten times more than what his opponents had dealt in return. He slew those with only tenuous connections to the perpetrators. He roughed up those who possessed only the tiniest inkling of useful information.

The Boy-Who-Won did not seem much of a winner anymore.

His enemies were many, and not all of them were outlaws. Many still enjoyed positions within the body of government. They avoided suspicion by keeping their heads below the radar. These administrators and decision-makers did all they could to shift opinion. As the years went by, less reverence needed to be paid to the achievements of the Boy-Who-Won. More and more, newspapers and other opinion makers began to voice their doubt of the sanity of Boy-Who-Won. How could one be a hero when he acted in the same way of the dark lord he defeated himself?

Perhaps the Dark Lord lived on within him. Perhaps the fame and power corrupted him. Perhaps the Hallows themselves worked their nefarious purposes within his will.

Practically no one spoke up against these rumors, for all of those who wished to do so were massacred already. With no friends or relatives and no other allies to depend upon, the Boy-Who-Won was in actuality a very lonely boy.

Suddenly people didn't think fondly of the Boy-Who-Won anyomre. They didn't comprehend his achievements. They did not see what they were supposed to be grateful about. The Boy-Who-Won didn't look like he was winning against anything. Instead, he became resentful and bloodthirsty. He became morose and ill tempered. He became consumed in his mad crusade against evil. In short, the Boy-Who-Won became the Boy-Who-Became.

The Boy-Who-Became did not very much like this new title of his. Yet there was nothing he could do about it. He held no influence amongst higher channels and had no supporters left who could fight in his name. In short, the boy had no power to change public opinion. The Boy-Who-Became soon grew into a dreaded figure in Wizarding history. It did not help that he did not look older than the day he became the Boy-Who-Won. How could he not age in the decades beyond his teenage years? Was it the corrupting influence of the Hallows? Or was it due to some unspeakable ritual that required gallons of baby blood to maintain? Sadly for the Boy-Who-Became, a significant portion of the public did not discount the latter rumor.

It became inevitable that the Wizarding World would turn against the Boy-Who-Became.

The Boy-Who-Became was the new dark lord. The Boy-Who-Became would kill everyone. The Boy-Who-Became was planning to topple the entirety of the Wizarding World.

Of course, this could not be. So the Wizarding World moved to eliminate this newfound threat.

The results were utterly predictable. The Wizarding World was rather rudely reminded why the Boy-Who-Became used to be called the Boy-Who-Won. All attempts of defeating the Boy-Who-Became in open combat met with failure. Add to that his wealth of experience in dealing with ruthless warlocks, the Boy-Who-Became might as well be nigh invincible.

How could you defeat an opponent who was formidable, experienced, and (reputably) immortal? The world's greatest Wizards shut themselves in a hidden location to ponder upon the question for days upon days.

Eventually the elders decided to imprison the Boy-Who-Became.

Fashioning an elaborate trap requiring countless magical materials and a humongous amount of magical energies, the wizards and witches finally completed the ultimate prison after a modest period of ten years.

A decade had been enough for the Boy-Who-Became to demolish the Wizarding World. Banks, shops, infrastructure, even Hogwarts itself suffered from obliterating attacks. Whole species such as dragons and even the innocent kneazels were pushed to extinction. If the war raged just ten years more, the Boy-Who-Became would have likely become the Boy-Who-Won once more. There would of course be no room for the loser to exist. The very future of the Wizarding World was at stake.

Thus, to provide the ultimate lure for their bloodthirsty opponent, they gathered their most powerful wizards and witches to the ruins of Hogwarts, and waited.

The Boy-Who-Became couldn't resist. He came all right, spells blazing and killing a third of those present in the first few seconds. The angry and hateful Boy-Who-Became killed indiscriminately. Young or old, rich or poor, it mattered none. All he saw was magic, and all he wanted was to kill magic. For that tense short battle, the Boy-Who-Became truly lived up to his other title, the Master of Death.

Unfortunately, there were ways to defeat someone without resorting to death. Utilizing the power of time and the permanence of reality, the remaining magicians cast a brief but powerful net that ensnared their chosen prey, and launched him into the prison that they fashioned only for him. The Boy-Who-Became became entrapped in a prison that he could never have conceived in his life. The menace that had forced the Wizarding World to its knees finally met his own end.

The Boy-Who-Became became the Boy-Who-Lost.

For a third time, the Wizarding World rejoiced, only with much less voices and much less enthusiasm. Fatigued and demoralized, the ruined survivors could only look on as the crystalline prison continued to mock their weary eyes.

They had to get rid of the Boy-Who-Lost.

Much debate ensued how to accomplish such a goal without leaving open the possibility of an eventual return. After all, the boy-who-lost was the most dangerous and powerful enemy to ever threaten their society. Who ensured he could not return to deal the coup-the-grace to the already fragile world of wizards and witches?

Send him out to the void of stars. At least, that was one of the suggestions. Yet as the muggleborns became more aware of the advances in technology, in particular the growing forays into space, they began to reason more loudly for this option. How could the dreaded Boy-Who-Lost ever become a threat in the coldness of vacuum, the void where air itself was but a distant fantasy? How could he maintain his existence in an environment that was subjected to lethal doses of radiation and extreme fluctuations in temperature? Send him away, to the distant void, to never return.

Thus it came to be that they moved his prison. Sneaking into one of the many launch sites that the muggles used to throw oversized rockets into space was trivial. The most worldly wizards and witches carefully selected the most appropriate mission into space. They eventually chose a mission meant to explore the dwarf planet known as Pluto, a celestial body many light-hours away from Earth. Not that many wizards even knew what light-hours represented.

"It takes time for light to arrive to its destination? Why the bloody hell don't we just invent a spell to speed it up! "

Unconcerned, most of the survivors went along with the plan, attaching the crystal to the body of the satellite and making it undetectable to even the most rigorous inspections. Notice-me-nots and many other minor enchantments ensured that none would care to remove the magical contraption. To be absolutely certain the prison of the boy-who-lost would not be tampered with, a permanent presence of seven wizards stood vigil over the satellite every night and day until the launch date approached.

When the day arrived and the satellite eventually launched from the surface of their meager world, the Wizarding World rejoiced for one, final time. The Boy-Who-Lost eventually became the Boy-Who-Left.

There was only one problem. The Boy-Who-Left took something with him in his journey. Something important.

It started when the unicorns and other magical creatures grew weak and sick. The survivors noticed that their spells began to fail or lose their potency. Crucial wards expired, prompting a mad scramble to recast them only to see them fail again. Whole sections of the Wizarding World became exposed to the other world. The panicking wizard and witches moved quickly to eliminate whatever magical oddities the wards had hid, whether they were magical forests or the recently rebuilt goblin banks. The goblins themselves did not take kindly to this, but they were so few in number that exterminating this greedy race was only a footnote in history.

However, all the wizards were accomplishing was putting out fires. It was eventually discovered that magic itself was failing. The mystical force grew strained and disconnected, withdrawing from the mortal plane in a worrying pace.

How? Why? Many have taken the time to ponder this question, only to come up with one rather implausible conclusion. This whole incident began when the boy-who-left had left the domain of the Earth. Was his very existence tied to the survival of magic? Madness! Blasphemy!

More research yielded a more plausible, if less reassuring theory. It was noted in the most ancient annals that the race of dragons had gifted life the power to wield magic. The researchers surmised that perhaps the dragons acted as the source of magic. With the extinction of their entire race in the long conflict to defeat the Boy-Who-Left, the wellspring of magic ceased to be, leaving no other source to replenish the ambient magic that continued to be used up by the remaining wizards and witches.

This theory did not hold entirely up. Dragons became extinct fifteen years before the Boy-Who-Left was sent away from their planet. Did it take that much time for the ambient magic to be noticeably used up? Implausible.

Whatever the truth, the Wizarding World somehow believed that the departure of the Boy-Who-Left caused the impending doom of magic. It was certainly a fitting revenge to the society that had scorned the Boy-Who-Left. Nothing less than they deserved, some believed. Others, well, they were not as accepting of their eventual fate.

A few remaining magicians strove to retrieve the satellite bearing the crystalline prison that held their potential savior. Of course, these remaining old coots and wrinkled hags did not know the first thing about projecting their weakened magic to a space that that measured in trillions of kilometers. They could not conceive in their brilliant but feeble minds to overcome the gulf that separated them from their target. After many tries and sacrifices, they eventually perished when their latest attempt ended when they had apparated an asteroid above their heads. The Boy-Who-Left had won in the end.

Thus, this simple tale ends here, chronicling the decline and fall of the great civilization that was known as the Wizarding World. Amongst the ruins of our once marvelous society, I, a humble scribe and a squib possessing only the most modest amount of magic, cannot do anything else but concede to our savior-turned-villain that we were wrong.

Let me, as a final ode to the Boy-Who-Lved-Who-Won-Who-Became-Who-lost-And-Who-L eft, inscribe our epitaph and apology on the ruins of this once great and famous school.

_We existed_

_We protected_

_We made a mistake_

_Please forgive us_

—Professor Draco Malfoy, 2108.

* * *

**End Notes:** This chapter remains unchanged due to the lack of explicit content. Remember that this is a repost, not a rewrite, so I am trying to conserve as much original material as possible to lessen the workload. If you question why I am reposting this fic without committing to continue it, then you must know that I am posting this mainly for the benefit of new readers who have not read this fic before. Even if it stays at 49 chapters, this story will have a place on this site.

Btw, just to make this clear: THIS FIC IS **NOT A CROSSOVER **OF ANYTHING! THE SCI-FI UNIVERSE THAT THIS FIC TAKES PLACE IN IS COMPLETELY MADE UP BY MYSELF!


	2. I: The First Subjects - Repost

March 27, 2011  
Repost: October 28, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** So far, I think this fic still has potential, considering the interest I have received so far. I'll be putting down my work on all other fics and try to fix this fic up in the next few weeks. I'll see where I will go from there.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The First Subjects_

* * *

Rape and pillage. That was what the Boy-Who-Became had subjected to the Wizarding World. Why should he care about his actions when the rest of his society did not respect his own dignity? Sadly, the regressive and reactionary people that made up the Wizarding World displayed a remarkable lack of civilized conduct. Rules, laws and customs were thrown to the dust as wizards dark and light started to go after his family and friends. The brutal rape and murder of his wife was but the first shot in their war. Man's greed showed itself to be amply capable of pushing people into the abyss. Was it any surprise that the abyss gazed back?

It started so small in the beginning. As he hunted down the handful of warlocks responsible for the murder of his wife, Harry wrapped himself in grief. He took care to be discrete, leaving few traces behind. When he met his opponents, he dispatched them quickly without resorting to exaggerated flourishes.

But as the torture and killing of his relatives and friends went on, Harry abandoned civilized conventions. Grief, rage, anger and madness consumed him utterly as he stopped bothering to care how his acts would be perceived by the Wizarding World. He started to torture wrongdoers with horrendously dark spells, then executed them in vicious ways out of spite. He raided his victim's belongings and spell books to gain more knowledge and power, but only became more steeped in the Dark Arts he previously eschewed. Slowly but surely, the hunt was all that mattered, leaving the weak and pitiful ideal known as justice behind in his path for ultimate revenge.

He began to take pleasure in the screams of the dying. So what? Who cared about human rights? If his enemies didn't bother to adhere to the rules, then why should he?

Harry took distinct pleasure in dealing with the fairer sex. He beat, raped and suffocated all the dark witches he could get his hands on. Why shouldn't he? They were practically there for the taking! It wasn't his fault that these babes in robes decided to dedicate themselves to a life of death and misery. They all deserved worse. Besides, it was such a waste killing these lovely witches without.. using them up first. Heck, Harry would have gone _mad_if he wouldn't be able to relieve his urges once in a while. Even if his latest victim with that oh-so-delectable bust was only guilty of stealing a toy from a small-time shop when she was six…

What really pushed the rest of the Wizarding World over the edge was his desecration of the dead. Harry learned the real cost of using the Resurrection Stone later, and regretted his liberal use of the artifact, but that happened much later.

If everyone wanted the Hallows so much, it would have been a waste not to use them to the fullest. Summoning the dead and compelling them to tell the Boy-Who-Became their secrets was much easier than torturing the information out of them when they were still alive. Not that he tortured them first before dealing the deathblow in order to gain information. That was just the warm-up. He simply enjoyed the torture for the sake of torture, and when the victim finally expired, he would raise them back from the dead and get back to business. Who cared about right or wrong when the dead didn't object to his methods? What a fuss people kicked up when they realized they couldn't take any secrets to their grave. From past dealings with dark lords, to long-forgotten sins that should never have been unearthed, it was surprising what most former heroes had hidden from the wider world.

Perhaps it wasn't such a great idea to raise Professor Dumbledore himself and make the old ghost reveal _all_of his nasty dealings. He sure had plenty of them in his long, fulfilling life. At least Harry got off a few cheap laughs out of the few modest double dealings Dumbledore had committed. All for the 'Greater Good' of course and nothing less what other figures of authority would have done. That it absolutely broke the back of the few remaining advocates for him was a minor consequence.

When those pathetic losers from the Wizarding World eventually united to act against him, it had been a surprise what they eventually came up. The Boy-Who-Became had already given up on the World and was well on his way with engineering their ultimate destruction. To think they would figure out a way to trap him and bind his magic to silence. Harry never forgave his overconfidence when he stormed into Hogwarts without scoping out the place.

'_So much time has passed…'_

Harry had no means to track the time in his prison. He only knew that he had been imprisoned now for a very long time. When he opened his drowsy eyes, he met the same sight that had plagued him from the start. The interior looked blue, but beyond which nothing held substance except the dark. Nothing moved. Nothing showed. Nothing changed. Harry drifted lifelessly in sleep, only to waken in bouts of drowsiness before falling back into sleep.

In the few moments when he was lucid enough to think, the Boy-Who-Left tried to stretch out his diminishing magic and analyze the nature of his prison.

The crystal was basically a spell container. It had been stacked with many layers of self-maintaining wards, charms and other infernal enchantments. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of different spells, all of which were fed by one primordial master spell.

He could not find a name for it. He could only describe how it worked.

The Spell drew energy upon every action, every magic and even every thought. The more energy Harry expended into anything, the more the crystal's many spells were fed by the Vampiric nature of the Spell. The crystal drew its energy both from its prisoner and from any outside influence, insuring that nothing inside or out would succeed in freeing him from his cage.

It was an incredibly ingenious construction and impervious to almost all attempts at breaking it apart. But Harry found a weakness. He didn't live to become the Master of Death in order to waste away his life until the death of the universe.

The crystalline prison had been designed to keep him inside and to absorb any energy that is expelled into attempting to escape.

Thus, the first action he had to take was to change his intent, accepting the reason why he was imprisoned. The spells worked on his emotions and intentions, drawing instructions from the changing situation. By signaling to his inanimate captor that he did not plan to expend any energy in attempting a futile escape, the Spell would grow less vigilant.

After decades of minute probes, Harry had finally discovered the amount of magical energy that could be discharged undetected at a certain rate before the Spell would kick in. In addition, by keeping his mind empty with nothing else but acceptance of his fate, he could slowly and steadily increase that threshold. Therefore, the amount of magical energy he could spend to sabotage his prison would inevitably rise.

In his inordinate amount of time being trapped, Harry had begun to patiently chafe at his wards, weakening them to the point of fracture but never breaking them completely. The warnings and alarms that had been bound in the prison would kick up a huge storm if it detected any malfunctioning ward. No, the best Harry could hope for was to chip away at the edges of each ward.

His prison began to rot from within. It might take a few centuries or millennia, but he _would_ get out eventually.

That is, until some dweeb found his crystal from the surface of an undisturbed asteroid in Jupiter's orbit. Harry first sensed very little, and dared not extend his senses for fear of tripping up the wards. Light, movement, warmth; it all came back to him, filtered through the thick defenses of his prison. When he was deposited in a predominately white room, massive amounts of energy began to assault his cage.

'_The idiots! They're pouring watts of energy into the Spell! If this keeps on my work will be set back for centuries!'_

The time for patience was over. Harry had to gather himself to make his strike now, when he really felt he was only two-thirds finished with his job.

He began to draw in himself, focusing his energy into a point smaller than a pea.

"_This is the captain speaking…"_

As alarms and panic engulfed the room around him, Harry continued to compress his magical reserves.

"…_take out a few of those scum with us!"_

When a loud explosion kicked in the distance, and machines started to discharge their deadly energies, the Boy-Who-Left weaved the elements that would facilitate his return.

"_Keep the surgical beams from overheating! If they blow we won't have anything left to penetrate their armor!"_

Deaths began to pass, their dying screams and fading souls granting welcome sustenance to the starved and exhausted prisoner. He used their primal fears and their last regrets to put urgency in the strike that he was about to unleash.

"_We surrender! Don't kill us!"_

_BOOM!_

The crystal disintegrated in one of the largest and most contained magical explosions. The energy rivaled that of matter annihilation, a scale of detonation inconceivable by the original designers of the prison. In fact, only half of the total energy was spent on demolishing the bindings that made up the crystal. The other half was put into a shield that ensured that the explosion was contained in its most effective use. It also prevented the blast from destroying his body.

* * *

The air struck him first. It smelled fresh, if somewhat clinical. The atmosphere felt dry and warm, but luckily Harry breathed it comfortably. Inhaling once, the Boy-Who-Left took in the smells. Chemicals, dust, smoke, and blood. Ah, blood, a familiar companion in his quest to destroy the Wizarding World. He opened his crusted eyes for the first time in centuries to take in the view.

The wizard knew that he had been launched into space. He also suspected he had woken far into the future. From the futuristic interior of the lab room and the notable absence of windows, he quickly concluded that hey stood on actual space ship. Questions immediately followed his observation. How far away was Earth? How advanced were the space ships of today?

Most of all, he wanted to know how long he slept.

Ignoring the corpses, the dying, and the injured, he turned towards the nearest person. The man showed signs of Asian heritage. He wore a stylish white lab coat that glowed with several indecipherable codes over its surface. The scientist gaped at Harry's sudden appearance, along with everyone else in the room.

Was it something on his face? His scar wasn't that noticeable. Perhaps his fashion might be the problem. His black-and-crimson combat robes were utilitarian and designed to fit into the twenty-first century muggle society. In fact, they were hardly robes to at all. They were more akin to trench coats the way it was cut at the moment. The only difference from the muggle variants was that it had been weaved out of dragonskin instead of more mundane materials.

These future humans didn't look that much different, now that Harry had a good look. Though the current style seemed to be computerized garments adorned with flowing numbers and phrases, the basic shapes were essentially the same.

Maybe the fault lay at his sudden entry. He couldn't help but smirk as he extended his minor empathic senses to the localized pool of dark emotions. He absorbed the fear and despair like a junkie taking a shot of cocaine. The incredible high he experienced almost overwhelmed his consciousness.

Smirking wider, he opened his eyes again and addressed the Asian professor, hoping that English hadn't died off in this age. "Where am I?"

The older man was speechless. He could only stare wide-eyed at the remaining fragments of the crystal before darting back to the illuminant green eyes of the boy that had emerged. "Y-You don't know? We're in the middle of the Jupiter belt, on board our research vessel."

'_Hmm. Jupiter implies that I'm in the same solar system. That's a relief. It also confirms that I'm on a space ship, as crazy as it might sound.'_

"What is the current year?" He asked, eager to hear the answer. How far ahead in time had he been propelled? Since the fashion and equipment didn't seem too outlandish, he figured it might have been only a few hundred years at the most.

The Asian researcher darted his eyes to colleagues, as if hoping for reassurance. "The standard year is 3011 Anno Domini in the Gregorian Calendar. It doesn't differ much from the Julian Calendar if you're familiar with that. Since you speak Universal English I assume you are familiar with either of those calendars. Have I answered to your satisfaction?"

Fucking. Blimey. Hell.

Nine hundred years.

Nine FUCKING hundred years.

A blast of ambient magic radiated from his form as his anger got the best of him. "Satisfaction? SATISFACTION? Fuck no it isn't! Nine Merlin-damned years! Gone! Wasted!"

"Hey, dumbass!" One of the armored pirates spoke up, and aimed his pulse rifle at the boy. "I don't know what you're doing with that glowy stuff, but if you don't shut it in three seconds I'm gonna shoot you apart!"

Flicking his palm, his deathstick instantly appeared between his fingers. He silently cast layers and layers of advanced protection wards on himself while he measured this new threat. Though he didn't recognize the weaponry, and might pose a credible threat, he found his adversary wanting.

"It's been three seconds already. Are you going to shoot me already or do they count seconds differently in this age?"

The man promptly fired with his rifle, spitting out a rapid cycle of purple pulses of high-energy particles. Harry's defenses held up as he had predicted, though he was worried about the drain on his shields. Regular combat spells didn't drain this much. It seemed muggle weapons had advanced quite a bit.

"Jeez, what are you, The Wizard of Pluto or something!" The man spat out in frustration and dropped his rifle for his sidearm.

The compact gun spat out needles of armor-piercing material, which flattened uselessly against the kinetic barrier. "Fuck! Let's see you eat this then!"

The grenade that the man threw in a hurry flew comically slow towards the unconcerned wizard. The device bumped harmlessly against his kinetic wards, and promptly exploded in electric fury.

This time, Harry did stumble, finding that half of his wards had been fried apart. "What the—"

But his opponent was already on top of him, having used the distraction to unsheathe his wrist-mounted combat blades and storm the wizard in a mighty body slam. This time there were no magical barriers to repel the attacker.

The two crashed against the sterile white floor with bone-breaking force, knocking the wind out of Harry. If his robe's enchantments didn't held up, he might have succumbed to the incredible weight of his attacker's semi-powered armor. As it was, the knives that stung brutally against Harry's midsection started to pierce his dragonskin robes. His enraged attacker took the opportunity to bash Harry's head with his elbow, bruising his eyes and nose.

"ENOUGH! _**Elcu Silu**__!_"

As soon as the incantation was spoken, an invisible force flung Harry's opponent away, only to crash against the ceiling and drop back to the floor with a cracking neck-snapping thud. The surreal event seemed to snap the rest of the intruders out of their confusion.

One of the two female pirates snapped out a command. "Cut down the rest and kill the boy! He's got some kind of shielding, so use any nEMP weaponry you have on him!"

'_Fuck.'_

The reddish coated boarders let their rifles rip at the people in lab coats, hitting those who had been foolish enough to emerge out of cover. The scientists didn't stand still for long and used their modified lab equipment to fire heat and radiation back at their opponents, who seemed mostly unaffected by the flea bites.

A few of the attackers brought out their nEMP armaments.

One man retrieved a handful of the same type of grenades someone had thrown at Harry earlier. Recognizing the acute threat, Harry snapped his wand tip and fired a soundless _**Reducto**_, which caused the payload to detonate in the pirate's face and overload his entire suit. The other attacker seemed to have loaded an nEMP magazine in his pistol and had already fired his first few rounds at Harry. The wizard let the rounds veer away from his direction, courtesy of an overcharged shield charm originally meant to bend away arrows. With a calm flourish of his deathstick, Harry sliced in the air in front of him, incanting, "_**Sectumsempra.**_"

The pistol, its attached arm, and the rest of the pirate's torso slid apart in two separate pieces.

With unassuming calm, Harry noted the fear etched in the faces of the helmeted aggressors as they turned their arms to face what they perceived as the greater threat.

Harry wanted to stop this nonsense immediately.

Waving both his wand hand and his unoccupied one in the air, the master wizard boomed, "_**Expelliarmus**_!"

A shockwave expanded from Harry's form, spreading out in the entire lab room, flinging rifles and lab fixtures from gripping hands and bolted platforms alike. The objects did more than detach themselves from their owners, sometimes and breaking apart under the strain of gravitational forces acting upon the objects. The spell left nothing but broken components and deformed metal from the previously lethal weaponry. Even the grenades and the hidden knives embedded within the boarding armor had been warped into uselessness.

When the hostile boarders snapped out of the surprise of seeing all their weapons ripped away from their grasp, one of them started to rush at Harry himself, mindless of his lack of arms. The other aggressors started to follow their teammate's example.

"Oh no you don't boys." And with another lazy swoop of his wand, the metallic floor beneath the pirates liquefied. Arm-like shapes emerged to grab the men and women in red, holding them in their place.

Seeing as he got everyone's attention again, he healed the superficial damage to his face and asked, "Now, my dear children, can anyone explain what the _heck_ is going on?"

"Honored man, if I may?" Zhang spoke up first, realizing the importance of swaying this scientific oddity against the murderous pirates. Harry motioned the professor to continue. Zhang started to explain the raid. The man succinctly summed up the situation in his perspective and painted the attackers in the worst light possible.

While the story sounded plausible to Harry, he had no way to confirm all of Zhang's words. He never held a talent in Legilimens like Dumbledore or Voldemort. He developed limited empathic ability only with great patience and through an obscure Tibetan ritual. He couldn't sense most emotions without digging in deep. Fear of death was one exception, and it permeated in every person in the room.

Turning his attention from the cowering lab rats to the obvious aggressors confirmed his suspicions. The raiders didn't bother to hide their emotions. Their bloodlust remained, only tempered by the frustration of being disarmed and immobilized.

One of the aggressors, a dark-haired beauty, spoke avidly in her communications device.

'_That wouldn't do.'_

With tiny flick of his wand, the helmets ripped off from everyone's head, exposing their faces and robbing them of their communication devices. Now that Harry could hold eye contact with everyone, he would be able to gauge their intentions more accurately.

Yet, it didn't hurt to hear their side of the story. They might amuse him. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

A short pause followed, before one of them lost their temper. "Even if you kill every one of us here, the cap'n will just blow up the entire ship. Let's see you escape that!"

That might pose a small problem, Harry surmised, but he hadn't been sitting idle inside the crystal for centuries without coming up with new spells to keep him alive in the cold of vacuum.

"The captain's going to love raping that tight little ass of yours you _freak_!" One of them jeered, a rough-faced fellow with a burn scar. He kept trying to jerk away from the molded floor.

"What did you say?"

"I said, you dirty _freak_, that your virgin little butthole is gonna be—"

The man didn't finish his next words, for a tiny little beam impacted his face, melting the skin right off the surface of his skull. The utter viciousness of the spell caused a new wave of fear to roll over everyone present.

"Enough of this foolishness. I've already heard everything I needed to know and I've already decided what I will do next."

"Which is…?"

Harry grinned darkly at the crowd, and announced, "I'm going to take over that lovely little pirate ship you have out there and have a fine smashing time tearing up the galaxy."

The objections everyone raised was deafening. Dr. Selner was particularly livid. How could this foreign being, this _magician_, actually intend to take up piracy? The boarders themselves were similarly astonished, though they wondered more on how this frea— weirdo would actually accomplish such a deed. Was there any limit to his magic?

"Look, if I'm going to make my mark on this world, I mean, universe, I got to start somewhere, right? What better than a ship made for fighting? I don't know about you guys, but this dump of a research ship is pretty much shot apart."

"But mister magician, please,"

"Harry."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Harry. I assume that name hasn't gone out of style in this age?"

"Er…"

Professor Zhang took over from his intern. "Mr. Harry, while I appreciate your timely intervention, I would seriously advise you to think your future carefully. Your abilities are astounding. Your capabilities are a marvel of modern science. Engaging in barbaric acts of violence would not accomplish anything. If you would permit us to study your 'magic', we could set off a new age of all of mankind! Think of the fame and fortune you would be earning! Everyone must know of this discovery!"

The neutral stare the scientist received in return was more than a little worrying. "Everyone? Who says I want to be some kind of guinea pig for you to poke your needles in? Hell no. You gits ain't going to shove me into another prison."

There was no way he would lose control over his own destiny again.

Turning back to face the entire crowd, Harry hammered home his point. "I'm going to steal that big ship that's hanging out in space whether you all like it or not. The question is, will you join me?"

The request was so unexpected that it took a long silence for everyone to think the offer through. Harry didn't have all day though, so he started to approach the nearest raider.

"You. Are you willing to join my crew?"

"Go to hell you fucking ass donkey!"

"Suit yourself." Harry shrugged, and cast a point-blank Reducto against the man's chest. Blood, gore and armor fragments rained vicinity over the nearest people as the wizard approached his next target.

"Are you willing to SUBMIT to me or do I have to charm your guts to strangle your neck?"

The stocky woman was practically in tears as she frantically whispered, "Yes, yes! Whatever you say I'll do it! Just don't kill me!"

"A wise choice." Harry nodded approvingly, and held the tip of his wand against the lower bicep of the woman's right arm. "Just hold still. _**Nom Araveil**_."

The woman cried softly as a searing pain buried against her skin. No one could see the mark that would forever mark her soul under the layers of her armor. The homebrewed spell acted in a similar fashion to Voldemort's infamous Dark Mark, though its effects were much more limited in scope. Harry rubbed his fingers over the burn mark, sending soothing charms over the pirate's skin.

"This will be my Mark, branding you as my vassal. Dedicate your life to my will, and I will reward you with wealth and power. Fail in my expectations or betray my trust, and I will cut the strings that bind your life in this world."

"..Yes.. Master Harry.."

The spell was an interesting puzzle for Harry to occupy himself while he spent centuries coasting in space. Thinking over his mad rampage over the entire Wizarding World, the Boy-Who-Lost slowly realized he went about it the wrong way.

When he resolved to destroy all magic and wipe out the society that had scorned him, Harry hardly ever came up with a coherent strategy. In the end, while he may have succeeded in bringing down the pillars that held up the Wizarding World, he had left himself vulnerable. For one single man to fight against the whole world was impossible. He needed allies. If he couldn't gain allies, at least he should have spent more effort into gathering a circle of followers.

Therefore he devised his own Dark Mark. While he did not have any knowledge of the workings of the Dark Mark, he had mentally reverse-engineered Voldemort's creation and fashioned one for himself with the incomplete knowledge of spellcrafting he had available in his mind. The compulsions in the spell were rather limited, but it worked just as well on muggles as on magicals. He didn't know if he ever had a need of the spell, but if he ever found himself in the position where he had to rely on others to fulfill a vital function, he wanted to have a mechanism of control at his disposal that could not be dispelled.

With this tool in hand, he would be able to garner more power together with his allies than he would have available alone. No longer would he avoid making commitments. His brutal lifetime on Earth had taught Harry that he couldn't rely on society to solve his problems. He had to utilize his strength.

'_In the end, might makes right.'_

Laws and customs were weak and too often trampled with if no one bothered to enforce them. To ensure his own well-being, the newly awakened wizard had to build up his own base of power to counter the more well-connected enemies. Not all his adversaries could be fought in combat. Sometimes the field of battle took place over public opinion or in other areas that fell outside of Harry's expertise.

While he would have wanted to gather people who were less.. shabby, he supposed that these scumbag pirates would have to do for now. If his suspicions were correct, he needed to have a crew of able spacers in order to bring him back to Earth. He doubted that he could learn how to operate a space ship by himself.

So with pleasant haste, he inducted the next of the pirates into his service, mentioning the same claims he had uttered in front of his first victim. The statement reinforced the gravity of his minion's newfound position, letting him and the others know that their hard work wouldn't go unrewarded. It would also warn them of the consequences should they do any funny business. Harry knew very well that people weren't house elves, and that if he treated people as kindly as Voldemort treated his Death Eaters, he wouldn't get very far with his ambition. Even though Harry's methods and intentions were less than noble, he liked to think he would rule fairly.

He finally came up to the last pirate, the hot piece of ass who tried to warn her superiors. She wore a suit of armor that looked distinctly flashier than the others.

"You look different. Are you the leader of this bunch?"

The pirate lieutenant known as Claris had prepared herself for this exchange. She had been carefully mulling over her responses to this strange, alien and _incredibly_ powerful boy-wizard. All she wanted was to come out of this incident alive. If that meant handing over her allegiance to this maniac and risk a later death when Hargrave would inevitably shoot the _Helical Visage_ apart, then so be it. Better than dying immediately like Jason had endured from this wand-waving prat.

That did not mean that she would settle on being this magician's penthouse pet. If she wished to salvage some of her dignity, she had to make it clear to this boy that she had more to offer than her body. She hoped this guy would not be ruled _too_much by his hormones, or she else she could kiss her ass goodbye. Figuratively and literally.

"My Lord, Master Harry, if I may call you that, my name is Claris, and I serve as the second in command to Captain Hargrave, the owner of the _Eviscerator._ Besides issuing orders, I serve on the bridge as the sensors and information officer. My talents are very appreciated, sir. I know how to command a ship."

"Hmmm…" The dark wizard thought as he held an appreciative eye towards her beauty. His free hand slid over the curve of her ass, feeling up the shape of the mound despite the thick layer of armor that stood in the way. "I am sure your talents are _well_ appreciated indeed…"

His eyes hardened immediately, losing the lustful suggestions it held before. Snapping his hand away from Claris' ass, he instead brought it up to the woman's neck to squeeze her windpipe. The frantic fear the woman radiated felt as orgasmic as its sexual counterpart, and the addictive sensation almost overwhelmed Harry's sensations. He pulled back only with significant effort and eased on the pressure to allow the bitch to breathe. It wouldn't do to waste this woman, especially if she proved to be officer material.

"Look bitch, you don't look as stupid as the rest of the bunch, so maybe I'll give you a chance and be my assistant or whatever. _But_, understand that you will work for _my _benefit, not yours. Let even a single thought go through your mind that doesn't give me a leg up, and I will give you a death that will be far from painless and swift. Do. You. Understand?"

"..Yes.. I do.. I'll comply to everything you say.."

"Good. You shall henceforth become my Second, my prime lieutenant in my growing army." As Harry burned his Mark on her arm, he intoned a slightly different statement that would set her apart from the others. "This will be my Mark, branding you as my vassal and agent. Dedicate your life to my will, and I will reward you with wealth, power and immortality. Fail my expectations or betray my trust, and I will obliterate your very soul, leaving you unable to pass on to the afterlife."

Having finished the induction of the pirates, the newly emerging dark lord dispelled the metallic arms that held his subjects in place. The three remaining survivors sighed in relief and retrieved their helmets, though the recently converted lieutenant quickly remembered something troubling.

"Master, I apologize to inform you of this, but there are still at least seven other boarders on the ship." Seeing as her new master showed little comprehension, Claris resumed nervously with, "One of them guards the engine room. The rest are sweeping up the hallways and bunks. Since I informed my captain the other boarders of our situation here before I was.. inducted, they will be preparing a counter-attack on our position at any moment. They won't hesitate to use their heavier armaments, and we don't have any weapons left."

Looking at the broken weapons scattered over the floor, Harry didn't seem very worried. Though his magic had atrophied by a significant amount from the immense passage of time, he still knew a sizable repertoire of spells that would enable him to kill these muggles and stay alive even without access to air. Only those strange EMP attacks may turn out to be a threat. The grenade fried his wards like they were cardboard. While he felt confident he could eliminate the rest of the pests onboard this ship, he didn't think he had the strength to get into too many conflict.

'_No, better to send these three new recruits out for another test.'_ Readying his Elder Wand, Harry cast an intuitive set of spells that levitated random components into air. Only the most robust components were selected, those shielded from EMP and therefore able to withstand the corrupting effect of magic. When the spell prompted Harry to take the next step, he enchanted the mechanical components with a single, overpowering directive.

'_Grant me three powerful weapons for my subjects.'_

The electronic parts twisted and turned, spinning around to place themselves into positions arranged to some greater design that fitted the individual pirate. The spell originally served as a way to form a working set of crossbows from scrap wood. That it now worked to construct laser-spitting rifles from the components available didn't affect its intent. The framework behind the spell was universal, and could work with any level of technology, so long the supply of raw materials held. The only requirement was that he had to add some magical reagents to the mix. A few leftover scraps of dusts in his pockets managed to do the trick. The amazing amount of debris from the pirates' rifles combined with the broken pieces of lab equipment was more than enough to produce something deathly.

Both the man and the stocky woman received a rifle. They looked rather shabby and unique due to their haphazardly combined materials, but the wizard knew it would get the job done. For his lieutenant, Harry had something slightly different in mind. A gleaming white pistol with elaborate blue crystal inlays floated in front of Claris, which she took with more than a little caution.

The warriors with the rifles checked their ammo counters, which Claris did for her own sidearm, only to come up to a puzzling sight. "Twenty-five hundred rounds?"

Nodding, Harry explained. "Your weapon works differently and is keyed to my magical core. As long as I'm close enough, your magazine will recharge."

"How close is close enough?"

"Heck if I know. Probably less than a kilometer though. Wouldn't want you to go off frolicking around without my say so." He clapped his hands in expectation. "Well then my minions, I charge you now to take care of the vermin outside. Try to convince them to join you under my service, but if they won't budge, just kill them."

The thought of killing their friends and former comrades was not an easy choice to make, Harry knew. But if he wanted to be assured of their devotion, then this was the perfect test.

"Won't you accompany us and help?" Claris asked, feeling a little naked at the thought of fighting a more experienced crew outnumbered. "We won't last long against Gerchev. He is incredibly tough."

"Remember what I said. Do not fail my expectations." Harry reminded his Second firmly, locking eyes with each other. "I gave you an order. I expect you to comply. If you have it in your mind to avoid or shirk your duty in _any_way, I will know, and I _will_ cut out your heart. Do not test me in this. I can snuff out your life whether you are next to me or on the other side of the ship. Clear?"

"Very clear, sir." The female officer replied crestfallen, and motioned for her two subordinates to troop out of the ruined entrance.

What the three pirates didn't know that Harry had been surreptitiously casting wards over their forms. Besides the basic ones that negated extreme temperatures and blunted projectiles, he added an obscure anti-electrical ward designed by Tesla himself that would hopefully guard the other wards against the EMP. Harry had no idea if it would work or not, but if all three came back alive after completing this little task, then he would know if it was effective.

In the meanwhile, he had to decide what to do with the civilian researchers that have so far kept themselves as small as possible.

"Well, what to do with you poor lot?"

* * *

**End Notes**: I'm not really sure whether I should thoroughly proofread all my work. For now I am not inclined to do so, because my morale plummets to rock bottom whenever I do it and that might make me abandon this fic altogether again. You will continue to have to deal with errors as a result.


	3. I: Cat's Eye - Repost

March 29, 2011  
Repost: November 5, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** If I am reposting this fic, I better make a decent job out of it. I've decided to make a more thorough job in making sure there aren't any glaringly obvious mistakes in each of my fics. While this will make reposting it all slower than usual, it allows me to catch up to the story in detail and fix any minor inconsistencies. I will still leave the tag 'Not Proofread' however as my efforts pale in comparison to more competent proofreaders.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Cat's Eye_

* * *

The fortunes of vagrancy and war shifted from one direction to another. Luck was a fickle mistress. Those who survived in the awful but lucrative trade of piracy did so by being cautious and preparing for every contingency. Mindless strength and courage only went so far. Even so, no one could account for every risk. Claris knew the odds as much as any other pirate. She had always kept the possibility of her end in the back of her mind. Piracy was too high risk to think otherwise.

Death loomed closely now. It was a cruel fate to be spared from a strange and utterly impossible foe, only to be directed against her former comrades. What did Harry think when he sent her and two of her men to fight against superior odds? Even if Claris somehow survived, there was still the threat hanging out in space. Two space superiority fighters and a heavily-armed mobile carrier kept the _Helical Visage_ hostage. Captain Hargrave didn't want to pound the science vessel into scrap, but if he lost contact with his men, he had to assume the worst.

Without knowing anything about Harry's impressive but obscure powers, she didn't want to put her faith on his vague powers alone. She doubted some fantasy wizard ever had to contend with threats in space.

The pirate officer gripped her gifted pistol tightly. Claris felt oddly helpless on having to rely on such a strange and alien weapon. She had no idea her day would blow up like this. She only wanted to hang onto her life and stay alive at the end of the day. It didn't help that she and her team members were being sent to fight a squad twice as large as theirs.

Claris knew that she wouldn't prevail in a fair battle against Gerchev's men. In order to stand a chance, she had to deceive her former allies. Only by tricking them into thinking she was still on their side could they get the drop on them. At the same time, she needed to bring Janis and Cleveland up to speed.

First, she needed to create a private comm channel with her fellow defectors. She sent a small neural command from her mind, which established a private laser-linked communication channel between their armors. The tight security insured that no one but Janis and Cleveland would eavesdrop on their conversation.

As they met her gaze, she spoke softly in her comm. "Listen, I know that we're in a tight spot, but we need to figure out a way to kill all of Gerchev's boys without getting killed ourselves."

Cleveland, the only male left alive, had finally regained his composure. "I'm not sure about that. Let's just ditch these stupid guns and warn Gerchev—"

The man didn't get to finish his words as Claris slapped her palm against his helmet. "Don't be stupid! Haven't you seen the powers that kid can wield? He can easily kill everyone on board with his fucking magic. Besides, he made us swear an oath and burned us with whatever's still stinging our arms. He might very well be listening in on us this very moment."

That fact alone raised a lot of caution between them.

"Claris, you don't understand. You're asking me to fight my friends." Janis pleaded. "They're my buddies! Sarge Gerchev might be an asshole but he took care of us, you know. He's like an uncle to us. It's not easy to throw that all away and stab him in the back."

Having run out of patience, Claris whipped up her gun and aimed the barrel straight against Janis' transparent headplate. The girl bounced back in disbelief as Cleveland brought up his own magically reassembled rifle against his boss.

"The fuck are you doing Claris!?"

"Just THINK." The female lieutenant bore down as she pressed her pistol harder against the plate. "Do you want to live? Because I sure as hell do."

"Harry is just one man. We can overcome his tricks."

"Are you sure about that? Who do you think can protect you better?" Claris asked rhetorically. "Sergeant Gerchev or Harry? Which of them are going to win if they are going up against each other? Is it someone with a gun or a grenade, or someone with a pointy stick that can tear you apart, fling balls of exploding death, and can make the very floor you stand on your enemy?"

It took a while and a few more words to convince her subordinates. In any case, she made it abundantly clear that there was no turning back. It would be mad to double-cross their new master. For better or worse, they had all cast their lot with the freaky bastard. They all resolved to survive this awful day, even if they had to throw their pride and loyalty aside. That didn't mean they wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in their lifelong friends, but at least she convinced the two not to switch back.

Now to act on her plan. She authorized her comm helmet to reconnect to the _Eviscerator_'s commandnet. "Claris reporting in."

"What the hell happened, lieutenant? You dropped out of the net for ten minutes and I'm not receiving any life signs from three of your squad."

"It's bad, captain. The eggheads threw up some nasty shit out of their heavy duty equipment and got the jump on us... We failed."

Gerchev predictably dropped in the conversation. "Fuck Claris, I knew I should have put a tighter leash on you! Three dead! Do you know how pissed off my mates are right now? I ought to strangle you myself, you airheaded bitch!"

"Control yourself!" Captain Hargrave asserted himself on the net. "This is no time to argue. Gerchev, take your men and clear out the laboratory. Claris, stay back and cover their flanks. We'll deal with this disaster when the _Visage_ is secure. Captain out."

With the lure in place, she and her fraying men spent the remaining minutes preparing their ambush. "Spread out the hallway and stand close to some cover. I want us to cover all the firing angles. We shouldn't give reason for Gerchev suspect us, so don't point your guns at him yet."

"Are we going to kill them all, ma'm?"

Grimacing, Claris faced Janis and shook her head. "If we can disarm or force a few of them to surrender, then I'm all for it, but we have to make sure they're not a threat anymore. Kill the diehards first, the ones you know who won't hesitate to shoot all of us down. Okay?"

The woman nodded, allowing Claris to mentally go over her plan. Why her new master granted her a pistol instead of a rifle she didn't know. Pistols might be useful in certain close combat encounters, but she'd rather enjoy the power of a proper rifle. Too bad she didn't think of asking the boy to give her a couple of grenades. She would sorely miss them.

* * *

Sergeant Roman Gerchev was not a man to mess with. He joined the pirate business early when he made his first kill at eight. Had been on the run ever since then. The taste of blood intoxicated him so much that he signed up for every available boarding action, even though he had the choice to transfer to another duty station.

Oh, sure, he tried a few jobs, but they didn't suit him. Working in gunnery bored him. All he was asked to do was point his turret at some indistinguishable dot in space. Working in engines or any other support function put him too far away from the fight. Piloting fighters was a little more to his style, but he didn't have the patience to study all the theory and physics crap. Besides, he couldn't smell the blood he spilled in space. He wanted to smell the piss from his opponent's corpse when he put a pulse bolt through the head.

So instead he became the consummate raider marine, excelling in all forms of shipboard infantry combat. He knew his way with every weapon, from pistols to rifles to flamethrowers. He studied the tactics passed down from retired pirates, but he quickly found out that they kept most of their tricks to themselves. Gerchev accumulated the rest of his extensive knowledge from personal experience by throwing himself at the enemy. He had served under dozens of captains in his sixty years in the business, but he wasn't about to retire any soon.

All the implants and replacement organs he had saved up throughout his entire career had turned him into a tough son of a bitch. Gerchev lived to fight, and he would be damned if someone forced him to retire.

Even though he cared for nothing but battle, he didn't neglect his team. Despite the technological innovations that made it easier than ever to board a ship, he would always consider it to be a team effort. When he fought against superior numbers, he had no choice but to rely on his teammates to step up their game. As Captain Hargrave's most senior boarder, Gerchev led the team. While trained his men and women to take care of themselves during an emergency, he placed specific emphasis on teamwork.

Injuries were commonplace and deaths were unavoidable. But even he wasn't incompetent enough to lose three veteran raiders raiders to a bunch of eggheads with a few oversized toys!

Something must have seriously gone wrong. There would be hell to pay when Gerchev would get to the bottom of this mess. Captain's orders or not, if he found out that sassy bitch Claris was at fault, he would blow her brains out in an instant.

As his party rounded the corner, he stumbled across a crapload of debris. His rifle immediately trained on the closest figure, which turned out to be the she-devil herself. Unconcerned with any decorum, he stomped over to Claris and kept his rifle trained at incompetent woman. She awaited him calmly and didn't raise her pistol.

'_Dumb bitch. How could you lose your rifle?'_

When he reached her position, he sidled up to her face. Their faceplates almost connected. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself, _lieutenant_?"

She had the gall to shrug at him. "I already told the captain. The civilians have fortified themselves up ahead and they're using their modified lab equipment to fight back. I've tried to search for alternative entrances or plant explosives to create our own, but that lab is rated to contain a nuclear blast. It would take heavy equipment to drill through the bulkheads."

'_Damnit. The dumb bitch might be right but that doesn't excuse her failure. I'm going to have some tough words with ol' Hargrave after this clusterfuck is done.' _After ordering his men to spread out and assess the situation for themselves, Gerchev turned back to Claris.

"Me and my boys will take care of the holdouts. I don't want you anywhere near us when we go in and clean up the lab. Stay out of the way and I might not accidently shoot you in the face."

Claris did not seem fazed by his threat. "Suit yourself."

Gerchev could deal with Claris' incompetence later. He had a job to finish. He first ordered his subordinates to report their observations and describe the positioning of the rebels using their sophisticated optics. After going over the virtual map, he formed a small plan and readied his men for a charge.

Two of his point men readied their pulse grenades. The rest of his squad stood back, ready to follow the point men into the room.

The leader counted down the charge. "Three, two—"

"Ambush them now!" Claris suddenly called. "FIRE!"

Twin beams of iridescent green tore into the grenade throwers from behind. The lasers burned their flesh and hit the grenades, detonating them in their midst and stunning everyone from their impending assault. Before Gerchev could recover, he glimpsed Claris taking aim at his head. He rolled out of the way just as her pistol fired. His electronically enhanced reflexes instantly brought him to train his weapon on the treacherous bitch. As he hastily pulled his trigger only for his pulses to impact against some kind of barrier, a bolt of what looked like plasma blasted from her pistol. The superheated mass washed right over the poor grunt behind him, dousing his armor in molten heat. He died instantly.

"What in the multiverse are you doing Claris!"

The female traitor snapped out of her surprise of her own weapon's power and spat out another devastating shot at Gerchev. He had already anticipated the shot and rolled away, letting the plasma melt harmlessly through the deck panels.

'_Where the hell did she get such a ridiculously powerful pistol?'_

A plasma weapon of such power could burn through the weak points of his Class II armor in just a single shot. But that also meant that its battery wouldn't last very long if Claris shot a dozen or so bolts. He only had to survive the next few shots until her clip ran out. Then he would be free to take the sanctimonious whore down.

His other men weren't faring so well. Two had fallen already. The rest were doing their best to avoid the ridiculously powerful beams. _'Where did these traitors get such powerful weapons? Did the researchers on this ship secretly carry prototypes?'_

Ricky fired a full burst at Janis. Somehow her armor miraculously held up against the barrage despite her pitiful Class I plating. Janis panicked anyway and fired her own weapon back in Ricky's general direction. The beam of weaponised heat and light cut the tiny distance within the speed of light and tore the ankles out of Ricky. He dropped in a bloody mess, screaming for his mother. Janis finished him off and burned his entire face into ashes.

Compared to his stricken teammate, Cleveland kept his cool. When the shooting had started, he quickly jumped into cover behind a fragment of a blast-out door, secure in the fact that it could withstand quite a few pulses. Still, he was vulnerable to grenades. So when a short pause set in the firefight, he darted forwards. Cleveland used his newly improved rifle to cut a beam straight through the corner where his two former comrades were hiding behind. The powerful weapon took a scant few seconds to burn through, but when it finally did, the beam grazed one opponent's shoulder while clipping the other in the side.

As Cleveland turned round the corner to finish the two off, a nEMP grenade set in proximity mode exploded off his feet, blasting his entire body back and washing him over with electrically charged energy. _'Good. That's one traitor down.'_

Gerchev didn't fare as well in his spar with Claris. A spray of plasma had landed on his boot a minute ago. The droplet burned through his armor and dug right into his flesh and into the bone. Despite his injury, he stayed on the move, confident his implants would mitigate the damage.

He had to keep moving. The corridors were too open. He had been slowly weaving back into the bowels of the ship, luring Claris away from her allies in order to finish her off alone. If he could reach a compartment that played to his advantage, he could turn the tables on that pretty bitch.

'_Or, I could just wait for her plasma pistol to run out of juice.'_

But five minutes in, the blasted pistol hadn't run out of juice! He counted at least twenty shots, well past the known capacities of the most sophisticated pistols. The traitor didn't seem the least concerned with conserving her shots. She didn't even take the time to reload! Every time he thought the pistol ran out, another sickly blue glob flew into his face.

"Where did you get that frikkin' new gun!? Did the eggheads give it to you?"

"You wouldn't understand, old man."

"Try me."

As he rounded inside the mess hall, Gerchev scrambled towards the dining tables. With the help of his arm boosters, he lifted a table right off its bolts and threw it in Claris' direction. She shot the approaching furniture in instinct but to little avail. The melting piece knocked her right off her feet.

'_Idiot. She of all should have known that plasma bolts have comparably little kinetic energy. Throw a rock at a firing plasma weapon and the rock would smash the gun.'_

His rifle quickly spat out laser pulses at his downed opponent. Incredibly, his weapons fire only chinked Claris' armor. The impacts jarred Claris nonetheless, giving him ample opportunity to close in for the kill. He sprinted down the distance and changed his rifle's configuration. A pair of mono-edged bayonets smoothly slid out. Their diamond-coated edges were ready to puncture through armor. With a mighty exertion he lunged at his stirring prey, hoping to impale her body before she regained her wits.

Instead, he crashed against some kind of invisible barrier. The shield shimmered like a bubble around his target. Some kind of rune appeared in the air and glowed in flickering fire. All of a sudden it flashed, unleashing a fiery blast that threw him to the other side of the cafeteria.

Landing hard, Gerchev tried to get back up to his feet, only to find that the plasma that had burned through his foot had reached his flesh and burned up his leg. He quickly tried to crawl under some cover. When that didn't quite work out he cursed his luck, put down his rifle, and scrambled to retrieve a pair of grenades from his belt.

"You wouldn't understand the strength I've been granted, Gerchev. I'm serving a higher power now."

Claris had somehow budged the debris aside and gained a clear shot at him. Terror graced his face for the first time in years as he saw the smoking barrel train on his head.

"No! Not like this!"

Death's release came swiftly for him.

* * *

In the end, only two survivors amongst the loyalists made it out alive. Both were wounded by burns but at least Claris' team had managed to knock them out. The internal AIs of their powered armor had already injected painkillers and other medicines into their bodies while the suits initiated their self-repair routines. They would live.

Out of all the conscious hostiles remaining on the research vessel, only two were left. One guarded the engine room and the other looked over the bridge. Claris had ordered both her subordinates to knock them out. Hopefully their intended victims wouldn't realize what had happened, allowing Cleveland and Janis to get the drop on them. They needed to preserve as much manpower as possible.

Cleve and Janis soon reported back on their successes. With that, all of the remaining boarders were accounted for. The _Helical Visage _had been cleared of hostiles. Now she needed to report back to her master.

Her new lord smirked when he noticed her arrival. Trying hard not to let her reveal her fear, she stepped up and threw a quick salute. "We've completed our task, Master Harry. Four survivors, the rest are dead. There are no more intruders on the ship, although we haven't secured its controls."

"Good work, my Second. Did you restrain the survivors?"

The lieutenant nodded.

"Very well." He shifted back to the Asian professor and his colleagues. Pointing his wand at them, he stated, "We'll have to continue our little conversation for another time. Sit tight and don't try anything funny. _**Incarcerous**_."

Ropes appeared out of nowhere, binding every civilian in place. Gauging from the chaos and discarded weaponry around him, Harry decided to put up additional security and conjured up an iron cage around the scientists.

The boy nodded appreciatively. "That should keep you all in place. Now follow me."

They exited the room, leaving the poor sods in their bindings. Harry led the way, as if unconcerned that he left his back exposed. With all the power he flaunted about, she wasn't surprised if he could stop the plasma bolt in its track – and turn it right back into her face.

'_Heck knows how this weird shit works.'_ Magic came from the realm of fairy tales and fantasy. The ability to cut through Class II armor with an elaborate wave of a stick sounded too outlandish to be true. Still, she couldn't deny the evidence right in front of her eyes. Unless she somehow ended up in some stupid simulation, she had to accept that magic was real.

The effectiveness of her new weapon alone helped a long way in accepting her new boss. The pistol's awesome power reaffirmed Harry's might. No other weapon could contain so much power in such a small and light package. Claris knew just as anyone else of the holy trinity that defined current weapons development: the relation between power, capacity, and volume.

A weapon the size of a hovercar could pack a mean punch and have the capacity to fire plenty of volleys, but no one would be able to smuggle it past a checkpoint. If you wanted a handheld weapon, you had to give up either power or capacity. Not so with her personal sidearm. The pistol contained seemingly endless capacity while remaining portable. Almost nobody else in the solar system could boast of owning such a weapon.

The pirate had a feeling she witnessed only a fraction of Harry's potential so far. A small seed of hope flickered in her heart. Perhaps this boy would grow into a force of nature. If that day ever arrived, Claris was sure she would stand beside him as his Second. Every success would propel her status and increase her wealth.

'_As long as I remain useful to him, I'll be richly rewarded. I can't wait what his magic might grant me.'_

The young wizard led her through a string of corners, confident that he knew the way. Eventually he opened a random door and entered the room, motioning her to follow him inside. The space inside turned out to be the observation deck. The reinforced transparent plastics displayed a filtered expanse of black and indecipherable space. She could just spot a hint of the asteroid belt they were in against the backdrop of Jupiter's gigantic surface.

A lot of civilian ships had observation decks, but few were as expansive as the one on the _Helical Visage_. Windows and other transparent barriers were usually regarded as serious vulnerabilities. Their tendency to shatter meant they were quite rare on combat vessels. The _Helical Visage _was never designed for that purpose so she didn't have the same concerns. Still, to enter the deck when Claris knew that her enemies flew about in space was foolish. She couldn't understand what her new master had in mind. Did he need to see the open space for himself?

It looked like she was right. The impressive view entranced Harry's attention. "So we're really out in space."

The kid's attention continued to hold over the belt and the planet. Claris restrained the urge to smack him back to sense. Instead, she decided turn to words. "Sir?"

"Yes, Second?"

"Forgive me for intruding, but we are still under siege."

"..Ah, you mean that 'mobile carrier' of yours." The kid nodded and peered out the viewglass, trying to spot the ship with his naked eyes. "Where is it? Can you point it out for me?"

The pirate officer coughed embarrassingly. "The mother ship is hundreds of kilometers away. At this distance, her silhouette is indistinguishable from the black of space. Her interceptors are closer, but they are likely hard to spot without electronic aid."

"Hmm.. if I can't spot my targets, I won't be able to aim my Reductor curse.. Is there any way you can find out where they are? Even an image is okay if you can't manage anything better."

"Well," She mulled over the issue for a moment. "If I tap into the commandnet, I can request a real-time overview of the local battlespace. Hargrave will grow suspicious of my actions so I can't stay connected for long. We don't have much time at all to be honest. Gerchev likes to stay off the commandnet to prevent any eavesdropping, but he always signs in regularly just to let Hargrave know he's alive. Now that he's dead…"

The other pirates might suspect.

"Right. Well, I think I can figure something out." Harry said, considering his options. There was _one_ particular spell connected to his Hallows that could reach through the void, but the cost was high. Yet he didn't have any choice. "Not very pleasant, but it gets the job done. Would you please take off your glove?"

She unlocked the clamps holding her gauntlet in place and extended her palm. Harry took it immediately. Retrieving an archaic looking ritual dagger, the boy cut a small line from her thumb, letting the drops fall against the surface of the cool dark floor.

"_**Hratis Carhoreth**_."

The growing pool of blood began to stir. Unholy fumes flowed around the liquid, their elegance spiraling around like sharks circling around a prey. The pool bubbled and heated up which frightened Claris. What did Harry plan to do with her blood? Eventually, the bubbling stopped, as if it nothing of value remained.

The blood solidified itself, turning into a red-shaded mirror. She looked in the reflection and met Harry's eyes. For a tiny moment she felt completely exposed. The pressure spiked her mind. Claris quickly averted her head, hoping her new boss wouldn't hold it against her.

"I need you to look in the mirror."

"What? Why?"

"Just look in the bloody pool!"

She obeyed, not wanting to irritate her master. This time she didn't meet the wizard's eyes to her relief. Instead, the vision that emerged from the pool looked.. incomprehensible. Mist, static and indecipherable patterns flowed past her view, all in a backdrop of mute grey. It reminded her of signal noise. What did Harry want?

The wizard approached her from behind and put his hands over her shoulders. His fingers pressed in firmly. Claris could feel some sort of glow radiating from the palms.

"Now, think back on those two fighters." He chanted hypnotically. "Imagine their shapes. What were their colors? What kind of weapons did it bear? Think on their capabilities. Think how hard it must be to pilot them. Try to recall who the pilots are, and what you know about them. Imagine the fighters streaking out in space. Can you visualize them? Can you _see_ them?"

The female pirate tried as best she could. With the subtle encouragement of her master, her consciousness slowly lifted away from her mortal limitations. Her entire perception of the world around her shifted in such a subtle fashion, that she jumped back when her presence expanded beyond the confines of the _Helical Visage_.

Two tiny glows buzzed at the edge of her vision. She turned to them and eyed their circular flight. The two Steinfeldt-class interceptors patrolled their designated zones. Their pilots flew the craft at ease of their supremacy. Their Vulcan railguns contained enough of a punch to rip through the flimsy civilian-grade hull armor, and if that wasn't sufficient, their tactical missiles would demolish anything in their path. Now that they're all the way out in this Jupiter backwater, the odds that someone else would interrupt their raiding party were virtually nil. Nothing could threaten their dominion over this tiny pocket of space.

But they were wrong. A predator tracked their flight in space. The pilots didn't even know they were observed. The hunters had become the hunted.

Something pushed against her back. Something heavy but insubstantial. Claris tried to resist, but Harry said to open herself to his will.

So she did. The presence entered her completely. A strange form of radiance stretched over her entire body, engulfing her in alien sensations.

_I have become you, and you have become I. Let us dance together under the clouds._

* * *

The spirit woke up from its slumber.

Iridescent eyes gazed over the flies with lazy contempt. What did these simpletons think to strut around like arrogant purebloods? Pests! Vermin! Dirt! The confidence they accumulated over a hundred easy victories had turned these pilots slow and fat. To whom do they expect to measure up against? An overweight kneazel? A featherless owl? The being stooped down to judge their contentious lives, and found them sorely lacking. Those weak of heart and ill in mind deserved the fortune that would overcome them soon. Their grip on life was too dim to stop his inexorable advance.

Perfect.

"_Fredrick Nelio,__come__to me."_

"_Cyrus McErnest,__come__to me."_

The fighter craft ceased their patrol and approached the vessel they previously held in contempt. With unnatural consistency they positioned their craft directly over the ship's observation deck, taking care to match their inertia relative to the helpless ship. Rotational boosters flared up and stopped as a portion of the upper armor retracted, allowing the transparent canopies to face the deck below. Both pilots sat in plain sight to the two humans below.

"_Fredrick Nelio, will you__dance__with death?"_

…_No._

"_Then you shall perish."_

A thin green beam lanced out from the pair of humans on the deck of the civilian ship. The beam slipped through the viewport and canopy with deceptive grace.

Fredrick Nelio passed from his life without a sound.

Turning his attention to the other pilot, he asked, _"Cyrus McErnest, will you__dance__with death?"_

_If.. I must._

Approval flowed from his form, chilling the pilot even further. _"Very well. As an instrument of slaughter, I shall forge you anew. Arise from your decadence and embrace your purpose. A life for life, a soul for a soul.__**Nom Araveil**__."_

The pilot convulsed in his seat, but his fighter remained idle.

The pathways of power lingered eventually left Claris' body with its purpose done. A strange sensation pushed against her back, only this time the force stretched outwards instead of inwards. The spirit retracted from her mortal coils, leaving her empty and devoid of any strength. She nearly collapsed from the exertion.

"What.. was that?"

Since Harry breathed harshly from the effort, the strain had probably affected him as well. His steely eyes swept his Second. His intensely compelling gaze had captured her attention.

"A dance.. it was a dance, but not of the regular kind. A nasty one, and particularly costly. That is all you need to know."

Straightening out, Harry looked down at the pool of blood, only to find it clotted dry and cracked. He expected that of course. The ritual had served its usefulness. He certainly felt the taint on his soul. Now, on to the _Eviscerator_.

"Tell me what you know about the ship you've served in under your former captain."

"Yes Master."

* * *

The _Eviscerator_ earned a bloodthirsty reputation in her operational service. Like most combat purpose space ships, she initially started as a military asset. The concept for the _Enforcer_-class carrier had first been drawn up at the dawn of the thirtieth century. Vindelyn Shipyards initially produced the frigate-sized carriers on Mars to meet the growing demand of fast and self-sufficient patrol ships. The demand for cost-efficient carriers capable of patrolling the outlaw sectors of the solar system independently had grown enough to make the project viable. The design finally ran off the production line a decade later after several tweaks. Soon after, the class proved its concept's value and served its purpose admirably.

As a ship class meant counter many diverse types of small and nimble pirate corvettes, the _Enforcer-_class performed brilliantly. Against larger ships… not so much. They were never utilized in wartime skirmishes or devastating line battles where dedicated warships fulfilled the specialized roles that the _Enforcer_-class tried to do all at once. Instead, the quick and agile carriers quickly made a name for themselves amongst the pirate hunting circles for keeping up with most of the commonly available corvettes at the time. A hanger filled with up to four different strike craft insured that nothing would escape their grasp.

The _Athenian Justice_ was just one of many of these quintessential patrol carriers. The Neptune 3rd Habitat Police Force commissioned half a dozen _Enforcer_-class carriers to pacify the Rings and ensure safe conduct in its extensive mining regions. The_ Justice_ earned a solid track record in the police force's service. She even enjoyed a measure of success under an able captain who knew how far he could push the ship. Having been well-maintained over the years, the ship suffered little breakdown other than those caused by routine battle damage.

But the _Justice_ fell into misfortune. The police captain became a little bit too sentimental. Faced with a choice between saving a container-load of hostages and retaining command of his ship, he chose the nobler option. The captain inevitably lost both to the wiles of the dashing young pirate known as Hargrave.

The newly rechristened _Eviscerator_ soon proved her mettle. With her speed, dexterity and military robustness, she overpowered every trading vessel that came across her way. The slower, the juicier. Her Reaper Class VII varilaser cannon and four fighter hangar complement might not be enough to win against military frigates, but she held more than enough firepower to overwhelm the occasional freelancer. Captain Hargrave only rarely turned down a potential mark, and more often than not what meager escort the merchants hired would flee at the sight of what the crew affectionally called the 'Evie'.

As Hargrave grew older and more cautious, the dependable _Enforcer_-class slowly showed its age. Still, with the help of constant firmware updates and frequent equipment rotation, the _Eviscerator_ could remain combat effective for at least a half century more. Even as the police forces adopted the newer _Liberena_ and _Sawyer_ classes of mobile carriers, decommissioned or damaged _Enforcers_ always ended up in the hands of ambitious mercenaries. Short of encountering another mobile carrier, the _Enforcer_ remained a force to be reckoned with for many decades to come.

In the _Eviscerator_'s sumptuous cargo bay, all seemed quiet. The few deck hands on the ship lazily lounged about to pass the time. With only two fighters in the Evie's rotation, both of them scheduled to dock many hours from now, the workers had little to do. That suited Harry just fine.

So when a pair of humans suddenly appeared in their midst, no one had been alert enough to spot the intruders in their midst. Even the small popping sound of apparition went past their ears as they were accustomed to all kinds of noises in their work.

Twirling his Elder Wand, Harry rapidly took in his targets before stretching out his wand into the air. "_**Multify**_!"

An umbrella of seven red bolts spat out from the tip, travelling upwards before bending back to travel forth in different directions. The sluggish projectiles easily closed the distance in the open hangar bay. The magical bolts impacted the unaware vacuum-suited crewmen without a sound. Without any armor, wards or electrical shielding, the spell discharged its full strength against the unprotected human bodies.

The seven deck hands fell unconscious, most barely even letting out a squeak.

Claris let out a small sigh after she confirmed that Harry didn't kill the workers. Not that either of them cared very much for their lives, but without any men, no one would be left to operate the hangar and cargo bay. It would be a nuisance to recruit replacements in this isolated environment.

'_Good thing Harry didn't kill them out of hand with his strange powers.'_

Luck was on his side, Harry thought. If the workers were just a little bit more alert, they would have easily been able to block or dodge the spells. Against more prepared opponents, Harry knew he would have to kill them fast before they pulled out their EMP grenades. He still didn't know why the electromagnetic pulses affected his magic so thoroughly, but until he managed to figure out the proper countermeasures, he wouldn't go soft on his opponents.

"Guide me to the bridge."

"Yes, Master."

He followed his taller subordinate and briefly enjoyed the view of her posterior before getting back to business. It wouldn't do to get caught off guard because he was ogling Claris' ass cheeks. Merlin, he had lived for more than a century. Though they were technically above legal age, he didn't want to be known as a cradle robber. Not so soon, anyway.

The thought of being intimate with his close subordinate also put him off. He had seen how the dysfunctional Voldemort and Bellatrix's affair had played out. Harry didn't want to make a rehash out of that sorry little mess.

The woman stopped in her tracks. Thinking there was some sort of threat up ahead, Harry readied his wand for a stunner but could sense no one in the cramped corridor. "What is it, Second?"

"Before we arrive at the bridge.. can you use your magic to change the settings of my pistol?"

"Why? Do you need more power?"

She shook her head. "No, not that. Just back then, you shot of a red bolt that knocked people out. Can you extend that capability to my firearm? I would rather not resort to lethal force. The officers on the bridge are still my friends. We need their skills to control the vessel." When Harry didn't respond, she quickly added, "They won't pose a threat to you, I'll make sure of that. We need the bridge operators to keep the ship from falling apart."

Her request, though modest, would be challenging to fulfill. Harry didn't bring a whole stash of magical ingredients with him at the time of his final battle and capture. He would have to use up the few ingredients he stored in the shrunken trunks he had on hand. Then he had to embed the magical conductors into the pistol along with a few strands of his hair. Then he just had to hope the final result would still be usable.

In effect, he would turn the pistol into a pseudo wand tied to his magical core. The thing won't be very efficient, but it would do its job. He hoped. It would likely turn out to be a hatchet job, and until he could dust off his knowledge on the theory behind the process and collect the proper ingredients, he wouldn't be a very good artificer. His forte lay in combat magic and transfiguration, not in wandmaking or any other craft.

In addition to that, Harry didn't feel comfortable handing out a measure of his power to someone else. While he recognized the advantage of making Claris capable of stunning her targets, there were always risks. Since the pistol was tied to his core, she could quickly drain capacity if she fired the pistol continuously. Even worse, she could shoot him in the back when he least expected her betrayal.

Yet, he needed to make a decision. Would he decide to share his powers, and trust that his Second would act in his own interest, or should he monopolize his magic for himself?

'_Damn, that sounds too much like old Voldemort, and look how far he got.'_

If he wanted to groom a crop of allies, then he had to take some risks. With a silent nod, he held his hand up for the gun. As Claris passed it over, he cast a small spell that disassembled the weapon back into its component parts. The individual pieces of metal, crystal and other delicate electronics hovered before him as he weaved a new set of energies between them, incorporating another element in the mix.

'_I'm way out of my element here. I guess I'm lucky that the wizards who invented this art never felt the need to learn how muggle contraptions worked.'_

The art of artificing worked by nuance and feeling. You did not need to possess the knowledge or exact science behind the instrument, though it helped immensely. By the same token, it wasn't necessary to know the properties of the materials or the function of the individual components. By focusing on the end result and putting your magical will into your vision, the magic would find the most desired construction out of the available raw materials. Of course, not every wizard could follow these simple instructions and expect to have a brand new time turner in their hands. There were still tons of rules and theory that needed to be absorbed if you wanted to create something more complex. Sadly for Harry, he didn't spend much time on this elusive subject to become as good as Flemel.

In modern times, the discipline fell into decline. The reactionary mindset of the modern Wizarding World and the difficulty of incorporating modern electronics in magical devices had pushed the craft into obscurity. The few tomes Harry found were only marginally useful in his time on Earth. The hybrid chips at the time of Harry's imprisonment were far too sensitive to magical outbursts to be usable.

But this time things may be different. When he assembled the new weapons for his first subjects, he noticed that his magic didn't reject the components.

Why?

Did modern electronics work from a different principle? Were they made out of more resistant materials? Or were they deliberate designed to shield against EMP? Considering the destructive effect of what the muggles called nEMP grenades, that might have been the reason. After nine hundred years of technological progress, humanity had likely moved on from silicon chips and copper wires. Crystal seemed to be the new rage these days.

'_A lucky coincidence. At least I don't have to suppress my magic in order to prevent myself from shorting out the entire ship.'_

Opening one of his spare pockets, he retrieved a single miniaturized trunk. He enlarged it just enough to let his hands through, and swiftly retrieved a particular ingredient that he felt would fit with Claris' psychic imprint.

The blond lock of Veela hair intertwined itself along the lengthy metal barrel of the pistol. Harry added a few black strands of his own in order to bridge the connection between the weapon and his magical core. Pushing back the mass of components, Harry reassembled the pistol into its original design. He handed the completed weapon back to his lieutenant, who looked suitably impressed at the entire process. Claris inspected her weapon eagerly and found a new switch on the side of the frame that would change the setting.

"Is this..?" Receiving a nod from Harry, she thumbed the switch, and looked almost shocked when the blue crystalline finishes embedded in her pistol morphed into red. "Amazing…"

"The crystals are magical absorbents. I can't do anything about the color change, but at least you'll know what you'll be shooting."

"This will be more than sufficient, Master."

"Just remember that I'm not some stupid magical dispenser machine. I'm granting you this toy because you need it. I won't fulfill every request."

"Understood. I'm grateful that you've granted me this much already, sir."

With that, the duo crossed the remaining short distance to the bridge. The sturdy hatch was locked shut, but it didn't deter the wizard. With a carefully overcharged _**Alohamora**__,_he waved the locks aside. The hatch lifted up to reveal the bridge.

The compartment was more cramped than he thought. It looked totally unlike the spacious futuristic suites from those popular sci-fi shows back in his time. The colors were matted in a dull shade of gunmetal grey. The crew stations were blocky and utilitarian, much like the stations aboard a 21st century wet navy frigate, though these stations had more rounded corners due to safety considerations. A large 180 degree viewscreen dominated the walls, displaying not only the open space, but also digitally enhanced outlines of asteroids and other nearby objects along with a multitude of data.

Captain Hargrave sat at the only elevated position on the bridge, the command chair. The seat looked like an eggshell cut diagonally in half. Its bottom allowed him to swivel the chair in each direction. A pair of two-dimensional viewscreens surrounded him on each side which provided the captain with a constant stream of tactical information. A larger three-dimensional hologram was projected up front, which currently displayed a schematic of the _Eviscerator_ along with status updates from each section.

Upon Harry and Claris' arrival, the Captain turned towards the sudden intrusion. "Claris? How did you get here?"

Noticing the extra companion, the old man whipped out his a pair of sidearms and pointed them at Harry's head. "You're not part of my crew! Explain yourself!"

"I am Harry." The wizard introduced himself with a bow. "I have come to claim this fine little vessel as my own."

Hargrave's first instinct was to laugh at the young man's audacity. Then his second instinct kicked in, the one which screamed that stupid people were the most dangerous ones. This 'Harry' wouldn't risk entering the bridge unless he had some sort of ace in his hole. How Claris managed to appear on his ship without using a shuttle he didn't have a clue, but the grizzled pirate put that aside for later. _'I can't afford to underestimate anyone who managed to sneak aboard my ship._'

He needed to die. "I'm sorry boy, but you won't steal my ship that easily."

The captain promptly shot the boy with his illegally modified firearms.

'_My explosive rounds should make short work of this upstart.'_

The sheer scale of the explosion obscured the destruction, but Hargrave was confident the intruder had been dealt with. This overconfident assumption left him utterly unprepared when an energy whip ripped against his hands, skinning and burning the tendons and forcing him to drop his babies.

The smoke swiftly ventilated away, revealing both the boy and his blasted lieutenant unharmed. "What in the void? How the heck did you survive my explosive shots!?"

"Why, magic. Ever heard of it?"

"Stop fooling around! Magic doesn't exist!"

"Would you like to see otherwise?"

Not really waiting to find out, the captain rolled out of the way and tucked himself behind a duty station. He looked up at the terrified tactical officer and scowled. "What are you waiting for? Shoot them both!"

A lot of the bridge crew had already brought out their guns. At the captain's word, they opened fire. Claris jumped back outside the entrance and used the bulkhead as cover. She fired back sporadically with her pistol, spitting red electrical bolts that stunned whoever was in the way.

Harry on the other hand didn't bother to take cover. Instead, he waved a single hand, which caused all the particle pulses to stop in midair. Hargrave only took a few seconds absorb the stupendous sight before retrieving a grenade from a cache he had hidden underneath the console. Perhaps some nEMP would disrupt whatever shielding apparatus the boy employed. Drawing out the pin, Hargrave drew back his arm and launched his grenade.

Knowing what to expect this time, Harry flourished his wand. A sudden rush of wind batted the ball right back in the face of its thrower.

"Oh shi—"

The detonation marked the defeat of the captain. The remainder of the crew was quickly dispatched after they saw him fall.

"Well, that was easy." Harry cheerfully chirped.

The pair of survivors quickly went to work.

As Harry casted bindings on every unconscious crew member, Claris approached his former captain's body and lifted one of his hands. Eying the shimmering silver command ring with cold calculation, she wriggled it from Hargrave's finger.

'_With this ring, my Master will gain complete control.'_

On a whim, she decided to kneel down on both her knees and present the ring on both her palms while keeping her head firmly lowered.

It made for a satisfyingly subservient display, Harry had to admit.

"Master Harry, may I present to you the _Eviscerator_'s command ring."

The grown boy took the ring casually as if he snatched a piece of candy. "What does it do?"

Suppressing the urge to palm her face, she explained the basics of its functions. It took a minute or two for the implications to set in. "The command ring represents the ultimate authority on a ship. It allows you to input commands to the ship that no one else can overrule. It is a symbol of your ownership and allows you to rewrite practically every program and every function that runs the ship. You'll need it to lock down the ship, for the other crewmen manning the turrets and engines aren't oblivious to what has happened here on the bridge."

"Hmmm, all right." The boy assessed the powerful ring for a few more seconds, but then handed it back to Claris, who looked astonished at his rejection. "You keep the ring. I don't know the first thing about operating starships."

"..Very well.. Master, if that is your wish."

Secretly, Claris felt extremely elated. Not only was she in possession of one of the most coveted and prestigious item a spacer could wear (granting her access to services and privileges in port that she would never be able to enjoy without the ring), she had also received proof that she had earned some of the magician's trust. As long as she kept herself useful to the powerful young man, she would be able to ride from his success. Taking control of the ship by himself without earning a single scratch in return was just the first step in his promising pirate career. With his many talents, the boy might very well develop into a power player.

As she looked back to the unconscious form of Hargrave, she couldn't help but thank the former captain. After all, if he didn't force Claris to join the boarding party, she would have never been in the position to earn Harry's trust.

'_Power and glory, all at my fingertips so long I stay by my new captain's side.'_

Basking in her success, Claris approached the idle command chair and seated herself on the soft cushion. _'I could get use to this luxury.' _The AI routines automatically recognized the command ring underneath her armored finger. At her command, the systems reconfigured the ship's control protocols. With a few minor inputs she locked down the rest of the ship from the remainder of the crew. Nobody would gain access to the ship's controls now. Everyone had been locked out of the systems.

After throwing up a few other essential safeguards, she rose up from the chair to approach her curious looking master. She delivered her report to her bemused superior.

"Master, I've locked down the ship but that doesn't give us control over the ship yet. While the crew lack the authorization to lift the lockdown, they may still be able to physically sabotage the ship. We should secure the ship against physical tampering by subduing the remaining crew."

The dark-haired boy nodded curtly. "Alright. Stay here and keep an eye on things. I'll scour the entire ship and take care of my new minions. Do you have a map or something?"

Claris spotted an idle holopad. She grabbed it and handed the device over to her master. With a few wireless neural commands, she activated the pad's holo-emitter and let it display a three-dimensional status update of the ship. The pad conveniently tracked the life signs aboard the ship. Harry knew exactly where to go and how many opponents he had to face. He smiled and left the bridge without another word.

At the end of the standard day, the reawakened wizard had taken out the crew and managed to gain complete control over the pirate carrier. He now possessed a mobile carrier, two heavy interceptors and a crippled research vessel along with a substantial amount of crew.

These bounties were the perfect welcoming gifts to Harry's awakening. The Boy-Who-Left had finally returned.

* * *

**End Notes:**I have a lot of other work to do in real life so I won't always be able to devote my time on fanfiction. I'll try to get this light revision finished in a month and I'll probably be ready to post a new chapter immediately after all that work. Excuse me for the slow updates.


	4. I: Subjugating the Masses - Repost

March 30, 2011  
Repost: November 6, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** It's election day in America today. If I was an American, I would vote for Obama as the lesser of two evils. While he didn't accomplish much in his first term, most of his policies are rational and pragmatic instead of dogmatic and ideological. The rent-seekers of the Democratic Party (the labor and teacher unions) are much less of a scourge than the rent-seekers of the Republican Party (the banks and large corporations). At least the Democrats don't believe that corporations are people. Finally, the Republican Party's embrace of Christian values is worrisome and at odds with all their lofty rhetoric about freedom and small government.

Too bad I'm not eligible to vote in the United States.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Subjugating the Masses_

* * *

Harry had never expected he would enjoy the sight of muggles cowering before him. It seemed too Voldermort-ish to take pleasure in. Yet he also felt he deserved this treatment after all the hardships he endured.

After securing the ship from her crew, Harry had transported every pirate crew member from the _Eviscerator _along with the survivors from the _Helical Visage_ to the mobile carrier's spacious hangar bay_._ All that levitating and apparating had put his magical reserves dangerously close to exhaustion, but with his opponents incarcerated he didn't have to worry about any more fights. Only the single surviving fighter pilot remained unaccounted. He was probably floating blissfully somewhere out in space.

After a century of hardship and pursuit, his decisive moment was finally at hand. Armed with his wand and protected by three armed minions, nothing could harm him now. The peasants before him were only muggles, after all. He had taken discrete scans of everyone's cores, and nothing from the results suggested that any of them possessed an ounce of magical talent.

That didn't mean that all wizards were extinct. Harry couldn't confirm if his ploy to destroy the Wizarding World had succeeded. There might still be some wizards and witches out there in the universe who were hiding like cowards behind their decrepit Statute of Secrecy. Until he could be certain that they were extinct, he would have to take to hide the extent of his powers.

That still left the pirates and civilians in front of him. The men and women from the _Eviscerator_ seemed to be the usual mix of scoundrels. All of them bar Claris looked obviously rough around the edges. What Harry had retrieved from the _Helical Visage_ was a different apple though. He got a gaggle of interns, a few doctors, and an enthusiastic professor who displayed an unhealthy amount of interest in his magic. Unlike his frightened colleagues, the professor's emotions were steeped in anger and excitement. He possessed a completely different attitude compared to his younger peers.

'_Perhaps he could be of some use.'_

Harry smirked and clapped his hands. "May I have your attention please?"

Not that he needed to call for their attention. He already had everyone's notice. It was hard not to miss the young kid with the scary stick. Some of them had already seen his magic in action. They knew he wasn't a regular kid.

"Now, as you have surely heard, I am Harry, your new master, boss, captain, or whatever you wish to call me. In the end, your lives as you know it are over. All of you will henceforth serve at my whim. If I say jump, you ask how high. If I zip out my pants, you ask mouth or pussy. Realize that I have the power of life and death over you, and if you refuse me in any request, I can make your life very uncomfortable for you. Have I made myself clear?"

Naturally, a few people didn't agree with that statement and were thrashing vigorously against their bonds. Cleveland, the only male minion Harry had converted so far, went down the line and struck the shoulder butt of his rifle against the most nervous resisters. The rough treatment subdued them into silence.

"Well then, I understand that you might feel a little bit hesitant in giving up all your freedom to serve me unconditionally. Let me demonstrate how carefully you should make your choice."

With a flick of his wand he levitated one particular prisoner from his place amongst the crowd. The others quickly recognized the stout figure as Captain Hargrave, the former pirate owner of the mobile carrier and the one who ordered the attack on the research vessel. The man had plenty of fears within its mind, but his trained instincts and vast experience made him look outwardly angered. The captain tried to spit obscenities at the wizard, but the rope between his lips prevented him from uttering anything more than muffled groans. Good.

Cutting the spell, Harry let the heavy man drop painfully against the deck. The man tried to squirm away, but the boy approached and let his boot land on the man's chest, keeping him in place.

"The man you know as Captain Hargrave lies before me in total defeat. I've defeated him and all of you easily despite all your experience and penchant for violence. By rite of combat, that makes all that is his," And Harry raised a fist. "Mine."

Turning his contemptuous green eyes towards the captain, he spoke softly, just loud enough for the rest of his audience to hear.

"Will you submit to me, Captain Hargrave, as three of your subordinates have already done?"

The defiant man shook his head vigorously. Despite the futility, Harry admired his courage. Even if Hargrave caved in to surrender to him, it matter little, as Harry did not intend to keep such an authoritative figure alive. No one must be left alive who might one day gain enough strength to challenge his rule.

"Very well, you made your choice. Now you will have to die by it."

His boot lifted from the prone body. Taking a few steps back, Harry began the incantations of one of his nastier curses. The foreign words grated upon everyone's ears.

Nothing happened for the first few seconds, but that was an illusion. Slowly, but surely, the throated cries of Hargrave grew more frantic and pitched. His vagabond outfit shook in his frame.

Ghosts began to appear as if they had been there the whole time. The Dementor-like shades hovered about the helpless human, appraising their latest prey. The captain broke completely at the sight of the ghosts, and begged Harry with his eyes to spare him from this onslaught.

Fat chance.

The spirits hovered over and travelled through the former pirate with their insubstantial bodies. Their trail did not left the mortal shell undisturbed. Flesh began to boil and melt. Bones began to heat up and catch fire. Organs solidified into stone and clothes began to disintegrate into some type of mucous liquid. Before their very eyes, Harry, his minions, and his prisoners were witness to the macabre festival that unfolded right before their eyes.

All that was left in the end was a pool of ash and something that looked like snot. The very stench of the organic waste permeated deeply within the entire hangar, leaving everyone unable to deny the truth that blatantly mocked their very conception of reality.

Magic was real, and it could kill.

After he judged that everyone learned he had no compulsion to spare their lives, he set in to induct them in his service. He approached the closest line of kneeling pirates and held up the tip of his wand against the exposed skull of the first in line.

"What is your name, and what is it you do?"

"Ehm eh it's Gerry, Gerry Bluewater. I'm ah, an environmental tech sir, a scrubber, erh you know, filtration and recycling of air and all that stuff."

"Well then Gerry, will you _submit_ to me?"

"Yes sir, gladly sir, whatever you want sir sorcerer, I've always wanted to work for a cool magic thrower like you sir, and—"

The wandtip pressed harsher against Gerry's skull. Harry scowled at him. "Don't lie to me. I don't appreciate your attempt to cover up your thoughts. Speak truthfully."

"Well ah.. I'm sorry sir, very sorry! I'm afraid, okay, I'm scared! I don't wanna die like the captain over there so please let me live!"

"Good." Harry turned back to the others and stated, "Let this be a warning to you all. Don't try to lie to me or hold back any truths you think I need to hear. Believe it when I say that you have a better chance of staying alive if you spill all your guts instead of trying to hide them from my presence."

The wizard lord then focused back on his current charge and cast his Mark upon Gerry's arm. The man screamed from the burn that formed on his elbow.

"This will be my Mark, branding you as my vassal. Dedicate your life to my will, and I will reward you with wealth and power. Fail in my expectations or betray my trust, and I will cut the strings that bind your life in this world."

The rest of the former pirate crew didn't present any further problems. Not after what had happened to Captain Hargrave. Though they may be chafing from this new treatment, they were hardly capable of uprooting the wizard. Criminals who had dedicated themselves to the highly dangerous trade known as piracy were pretty desperate people to begin with. Naturally resentful towards any law and authority, they were nonetheless willing to obey so long as they knew who was in charge. With the poignant example of Hargrave's corpse right before their eyes, they were feeling pretty willing to accept Harry's magic at face value.

Having finished inducting his new crew, Harry released the ropes that held the pirate crew in place and motioned for Claris. The woman, holding her pistol ready in case someone tried something stupid, approached her master confidently. Clearly aware of the eyes tracking her motion, she arrived before her master and knelt to her knees, bowing forward until her lips caressed the toe of his boot.

"What is your will, my lord?"

Harry smiled in amusement at the excessive display of submission. The theatrics were again a bit too Voldermort-like, but at least it served as a visible example to the others of his authority. "Please order the crew back to work and put this ship back into shape. I want you to retrieve both fighter craft and prepare whatever you have to do to secure the research vessel. Is it still capable of flight?"

"No master, it is not. Her engines are too damaged to repair outside of a dry dock. Captain Hargrave actually planned to tow the crippled ship towards a nearby pirate base."

Shrugging, Harry waved away the problem. "Do whatever you think is necessary to retrieve that ship. Now, please dismiss your crew and leave this deck. I wish to be alone with our other 'guests'."

As Claris and the other pirates trooped out, Harry turned to face the handful of civilian survivors from the assaulted research vessel. They were dirty, injured but most were still alive. That meant that they could still be useful.

"Now I'm left with you bunch. What to do with you all?" He waved away the gags that muffled their mouths, allowing them to speak. "Well?"

A young scientist spoke first. "Mr. Wizard, please, you don't need to do all this. We're no threat. Can't you just let us go? We swear we won't say a word about you. Wipe our memories or cut out our tongues if you have to, but I'm not cut out for all this death and violence!"

"Harry, if I may call you that, please reconsider your current course of actions." Dr. Selner pressed in. She had been appalled at all the violence this powerful stranger had inflicted. She considered it her duty to guide the youngster to a better path. "You are powerful, no one disputes that. There is no need to show the world how ruthless you are. If you would just let us get a word out to the Exploration Society, then I'm sure they will be glad to shelter you and reintegrate you back into our society. You don't have anything to fear from us. We uphold the highest ethical standards by our very mission. I will personally insure that you will not be put in a cage to live out the rest of your life like that. My husband enjoys a high position and with our connections, we'll make sure you live out a comfortable life."

"Bullshit." Professor Zhang interjected, pressing his whole body forward to glare at his fellow academic. "Our assignment was supposed to be secret and untraceable. No one at the ES headquarters was supposed to gain access to any details of our route in the Jupiter Outback. And guess what? A pirate ship miraculously ambushed us in the middle of nowhere! Do you think _that_ is a coincidence?"

"You know very well that what you're suggesting is just baseless speculation! You're letting your own bias color your perception!"

The two bickered back and forth. The senior of the two kept maintaining that there was some sort of conspiracy afoot to eliminate them all, while the woman kept insisting that Harry should cease his lawless attitude and turn a leaf towards a new life.

When the two started trading forth complicated ethical theories, Harry decided to put a stop to it by unleashing a firecracker from his wand.

"Okay kids, I think we're getting nowhere with this discussion. What matters is that I need more people to crew this ship and do whatever else that needs doing. Unfortunately, you're not exactly the sailor types like the pirates I took in. Unless you can think of something to make yourself useful, I'll just chuck you out of the door. Airlock. Whatever they call it nowadays."

The academics looked at each other, trying to read each other's cues on how to proceed. Selner spoke up first, with noticeable hesitance. "If we refuse to.. join your service, will we end like that pirate captain over there?"

Everyone couldn't help but take a glance at the decomposed pile of organic matter.

The boy-who-left smirked and leered at the doctor. "Well, someone as lovely as you can always find a place at the foot of my bed. I always wanted to shag a MILF with a doctorate." Letting his eyes wander to the remaining females, he added, "That goes for the rest of you snatches. Maybe I'll even share you with the rest of the crew."

His last word elicited a shudder that turned Harry on. Still, now was not the time to indulge himself.

"What about us men?" A male doctor asked. He seemed to have a more than casual interest in the answer. Harry jerked his head back to the pile of Hargrave's remains and the rest quickly caught on. No one wanted to die like that.

"I don't have all day, mates. Start volunteering yourself. Anything that isn't totally irrelevant to my benefit will buy you a place in my crew."

The first offer didn't take long. "I've got an accounting degree. I can keep records and manage your goods and funds. And your taxes, if there is any you'd like to pay."

"Sounds good enough for me." Harry approached the young man and inducted him into his service. After the short ritual, he unbound the man's ties. "Anyone else?"

"I can do weapons maintenance and development!" A perky blond revealed. "I'll be really useful to you, I swear it to you, boss! I worked on the Solardyne Suppression System for a few years so I know like, a lot about pulse turrets!"

"Felicity!" Selner snapped, looking horrified at her pupil. "How could you? The man's a brute. He'll be the death of you, if not your conscience."

The girl puffed indignantly. "I don't care. I'm not about to die in this rat hole."

One by one, the scientists relented to their will to survive and came up with some sort of function that would make them useful in Harry's employ. As a specialist in extractable material science, Professor Zhang was not terribly useful in any obvious function, but he could help with purchasing refits and maintain the integrity of the hull. Since he was the most level-headed and practical of the lot, Harry designated him as the civilian leader of his crew.

After half an hour of tortuous patience, he got himself a spare pilot, a few environmental aides, a senior engineer, a pair of turret operators, a junior missile operator and a few sensor techs. He even got a stock broker, although he assigned the kid to environmentals. They could always use more manpower to maintain the biopods or clean up after the ever-accumulating sludge.

Only two remained silent in the end. That the strongly principled Dr. Selner refused to budge was no surprise. The other grey-haired man hadn't spoken up yet. Harry approached him first. "Who the bollocks are you?"

The man stared fearlessly back at the powerful wizard. His entire posture radiated calm and peace. "Dr. Arnaud Rodriguez, exogeologist."

"Okay exowhatever, would you rather die than work in my service?"

"I believe that aiding evil in any conscious capacity would deny me entrance in the life beyond this life. It is impermissible to beg for my own life only to continue to allow you to take others. I do not fear your demonic sorcery, nor your infantile threats. I have made my peace with this plane of existence and am ready to ascend."

"Hm, so we have a comedian in our midst." The boy wizard grinned viciously at the unperturbed man, retrieving his ritual dagger from the folds of his robe. "If you're that sure about your beliefs, why don't we test them?"

The wizard grasped the exogeologist's hair and exposed his neck. With his dagger, he stabbed the curved blade through the artery. Harry let Arnaud choke to death as he prepared his wand to cast a complex spell. With dozens of precise movements later, he called out a foul spell fueled by the essence of his Hallows.

A powerful spray of light shot out from his wand. The strands gripped into the scientist's fading body. As soon as the strands of light had finished wrapping around the body, Harry pulled back his wand, dragging out a net of light which drew out Arnaud's entire ghostly consciousness from the body.

The newly birthed shade looked at his insubstantial shell in acute horror. Looking back at his own body, Arnaud met by his own visage, now stuck in eternal agony. "How.. this cannot be the afterlife. What have you done, witch?"

The ghost tried to strangle Harry, but the boy looked unconcerned as the grayish hands passed harmlessly through his flesh. The ghost tried to attempt several more methods of harming his tormentor, only to come up short. Eventually the man sank into himself, defeated and lifeless.

Harry pounded this lesson in. "Let this be a lesson to you all. You're all academics, so one more piece of knowledge won't hurt. Know that I have a thousand different ways to kill you, and a hundred times more to torture you. Whatever you think you can gain by denying me what I want, it won't work. This man thought he could cheat me and escape to the next life. Well, I pulled his very spirit from his flesh and cursed his existence to haunt this ship. You won't escape me even in death."

Leaving the ghost to wallow in his failed gamble, Harry turned to the final holdout. Dr. Selner looked up at the monstrous boy with reinvigorated dread. Her frightened and tearful eyes actually managed to turn him on even further. The sight of a crying and helpless woman really strained at his repressed desire. He almost couldn't restrain himself from ripping apart her clothes and shag her right on the deck.

Perhaps he could indulge himself.

So with an eerily perverted glint, Harry released his belt, unzipped his battle trousers and dropped his boxers to his knees. With his hardening manhood in full sight of the entire civilian crowd, Harry jerked his exposed jolly in front of the terrified and disgusted woman and waited expectantly.

Dr. Selner took one good luck at Hargrave's corpse, then at Arnaud's intangible despairing form. The implication was clear.

Her velvet lips finally parted. "Mouth.. or pussy?"

* * *

One sensational blowjob later, Harry sat on the observation chair at the bridge. No one missed his satisfied shit-eating grin. The pirate crew had heard about the incident through the grapevine long before his arrival at the ship's command center. The normally prideful Selner had been reduced to a humiliated and sobbing wreck by the time she was forced to swallow. He had given her a reprieve afterwards by assigning her to quarters, and ordered a handful of helpers to accompany her. He didn't want to break her yet. As for the rest of the civilians, he dismissed them to their new bunks.

While the sex had been relieving, he didn't want to go too far with it and become a complete horndog. All of the crew was his slaves, so he could do anything he want with them, but they were still people in the end. The charade was just a power game, meant primarily to establish his strength. Still, his first orgasm after a millenium of fitful sleep had been refreshing. He would be sure to sample Dr. Selner's services plenty of times.

In the meanwhile, he had to get the _Eviscerator _going. Nothing more could be gained by floating around aimlessly in this asteroid field like a bunch of idiots.

Absently tapping his wand against the armrest, he turned to his Second. "When can we depart from this place?"

Claris, sitting atop the command chair, wielded her command ring like a natural. At Harry's request, she brought up several pieces of information in her display and studied them before replying. "It will take two more hours to retrieve our interceptors and four more hours to finish attaching the towing cables to the _Helical Visage_. Sloppy attachments will cause our hulls to stress or fracture, so we have to simulate and calculate the positioning of the towing cables before we can proceed. After that, we are ready to make our way to Vlessing Base. It is a few light-minutes distant but the route is rather perilous, which will slow us down."

"How long will the trip take?"

"Well, with the _Visage_ dragging us down, it will take twice as long to accelerate, so I would estimate about four weeks."

"Four weeks! That long just to get to the edge of this asteroid field?"

The lieutenant grimaced a little. "You have to understand, master, that we haven't invented every wonder in the world. Nine hundreds is a lot of years but it's probably not the kind of future you've imagined in whatever time period you came from. There is no way for us to even approach the speed of light with our engines. The best we can practically hope for is a few percentage points in a practical time frame, but even that is relegated to the most specialized drag racers."

'_Darmit, four damn weeks is a bloody long time to be twiddling my thumbs. I have stuff to do, things to check, spells to cast.'_

"Alright. What would it take to travel back to Earth?"

"To Earth, sir?"

Why did Claris look so incredulous? "Yeah, the big blue planet where humans first settled, y'know?"

"Erm.. you might not be aware of this, but Earth's orbit is closed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Earth's orbit is a death trap. The whole territory is cordoned off by the United Terran Hegemony. They have tons of cruisers and battleships patrolling the orbits around the Earth and the Moon. Nothing can get through them without permission. Anything else is blown out of the sky."

"And I take it we can't just ask this Hegemony to give us permission to land on Earth?"

"No sir. They don't let anyone in, not even those without a criminal record."

"Damn."

That threw a wrench in Harry's plans. He really needed to go back to Earth and recover the magical caches he had left behind. With only a few shrunken trunks hidden in his coat, he had little in the way of resources. Most of his books were tucked somewhere high up in some cave on Mt. Everest, and without those assets he couldn't gain the specialized spells he needed to settle himself in this new era.

"Suppose I have some spell to make my ship invisible to their sensors. How long would it take to travel to Earth from here?"

His subordinate didn't look very confident. "The _Eviscerator_ is not configured for long distance interplanetary travel. It would take at least one year of constant burn and one year of constant deceleration by my estimation if we were to travel there with unaided. It might take up to four or five years if we encounter any difficulties."

"Unaided? You mean we can get there faster if we used some sort of help?"

"Well…" Claris looked back at her console and changed the hologram to a schematic of some sort of.. floating pipe. "The only way we have to travel even close to the speed of light, even if only temporary, is to make use of the Gravitic Catapult."

"What does it do?"

"The science types would be able to explain it better." The woman shrugged before continuing, "Basically, it creates some sort of distortion field that lowers the mass of any ship inside. It then uses an ionic burst and electric coils to propel the ship out the barrel at very high acceleration. Due to the non-existent gravity the ship will reach a very high velocity, up to thirty-five percent the speed of light for the most optimized designs, but as the mass grows back to its original value the vessel will constantly slow down until it falls back into cruising speed at its destination. Using such a catapult could bring us to Earth within a week."

In a nutshell, it worked just like the catapult Dudley once put together to bombard Harry with rocks. "That sounds impressive, but there's a catch, isn't it?"

"There aren't too many catapults in operation since it's very expensive and time-consuming to build. The materials that make the device work are also extrasolar in nature, which further increases the costs. Most of the catapults in operation are owned by powerful planetary or lunar governments. They won't allow any outlaws like us make use of their device. Since the energy and resources required to activate the catapults is substantial, it's also beyond our means to pay for the passage, especially when there is only one catapult in the hands of outlaws here in the Jupiter sector."

"Give me a figure."

"Three hundred million credits."

That didn't really tell Harry very much, although it did sound like a lot. Claris sensed her master's incomprehension and added, "The _Helical Visage_ is worth barely a million as scrap, and the _Eviscerator_ is only worth forty million at most on the black market."

"Merlin. So we have only forty-one million credits in assets. And I suppose I can't just magically duplicate a bunch of credits?"

"The money supply works through partially decentralized peer to peer validation overseen by an independent organization. We have credit cubes, but they do not hold value intrinsically; the cubes just carry pieces of hardcoded data. There's no use copying the cubes. No system in the solar system would accept duplicate chits. They're not like gold or silver where you can melt it down and make jewelry out of them. It's complicated."

In other words, cash didn't exist in the future anymore. The only currency that people traded with each other was through credit cards and electronic data. That left little options. While there _might_ be some spell that allowed him to magical accelerate an entire multi-ton ship, he sure didn't know one himself. He couldn't apparate the entire ship either; the sheer distance and mass alone made the thought impossibly daunting.

That meant that Harry had to earn the credits the hard way. He supposed he could just work a few jobs to get the required credits to pay for the overpriced catapult passage. Or he could spend two or more years wasting away in utter boredom while his ship trudged at a snail's pace all the way to the third planet of the sun. Then when he finally reached his goddamned home planet, he would have to evade tons of scary warships and smuggle himself back to the planet to retrieve his magical treasures.

Maybe trying to return to Earth immediately wasn't such a good idea yet. He knew nothing of the current state technology and society. Heck, even if he landed on Earth, who knew what kind of surveillance would be able to pick him up. He didn't want the muggles there to stumble across his hidden caches.

"Tell me more about this United Terran Hegemony that keeps such a tight lid on my ol' home planet."

* * *

With her fighters back in her hold and the wreck of the science ship secured with her towing cables, the _Eviscerator _accelerated back out into open space. The trip to the pirate outpost took several weeks, and there were plenty of boring moments in between. This gave Harry and the rest of the new crew ample opportunities to settle in and adjust.

During this time, the wizard closeted himself in the captain's quarters. He didn't show much of himself to the crew, presumably because he had many complicated magical rituals to perform. Surprisingly, he didn't even summon Selner or any other woman to his quarters to 'comfort' him. This relieved the women onboard somewhat, but didn't reassure them all that much. Perhaps Harry had something worse in store for them?

Taking advantage of Harry's absence, Lieutenant Claris reinforced her grip as the second in command of the terrifying wizard. She disciplined the crew, reassigned their postings, integrated the civilian scientists within the existing crew roster and rewrote Captain Hargrave's security protocols along with other settings. A good pirate captain never left his ship defenseless in his absence. Claris couldn't assume the ship would transfer control to her new owners voluntarily.

Already several crew members had been rendered injured by an overheated power line. Luckily Dr. Selner was a fully accredited medical doctor, and when pushed out of her depression, had been convinced to serve as the ship's doctor. She quickly familiarized herself with the medical facilities of the warship and brought them to their full potential, a first in twenty years. Claris wondered if Harry deliberately left Selner alive and to serve him in this capacity. Maybe he knew that someone of her skills would be rare in pirate circles. Doctors who were good enough to operate a medical bay usually had no reason to serve on an outlaw ship. The demand for qualified doctors was incredibly high and there were never enough graduates since they had to master different disciplines. Too many space stations and colonies needed their abilities and would do anything to accommodate them, from offering exorbitant pay to offering a few perks such as wiping away a criminal record.

They were damn lucky to have Dr. Selner work for them. The devices in the medical bay could save many lives, but only if they were properly stocked and operated by competent staff. Any layman attempting to use an autosurgeon or a cloning vat would have to resort to a dumbed down interface which excluded many of the complex and high risk operations that the device was capable of performing. Only Selner could unlock their full potential.

Besides that little piece of good news, Claris didn't have much else to be grateful for. Hargrave had spent a long time hacking the ship's AI routines, and digging through all of those layers consumed much of her time. It would be impossible to detect every alteration while the ship still functioned. She had to wait they docked at a port to replace suspect systems.

Another headache concerned the merging of their new 'volunteers'. The scientists from the _Helical Visage _didn't get along very well with the existing pirate crew of the _Eviscerator_. The two groups held completely different beliefs. Much of the rowdy behavior displayed by the pirates repelled the civilian researchers. _'Harry could have done a better job forcing them to cooperate.' _Just because the eggheads were roped into joining a pirate crew, didn't mean they completely gave up on their soft, pacifist tendencies. Claris had to appoint her new Chief of Security, Cleveland, in order to prepare for contingencies. The simmering tensions between the two groups risked escalating their interaction into a ship-wide brawl.

Despite all the management problems she had to resolve, Claris enjoyed her new position. The power she wielded was immense. Being Hargrave's second-in-command meant being on the background, working out all the boring stuff and letting the captain take all the credit and respect. The deceased captain also depended heavily on the personal relationships he had with his section chiefs, leaving Claris largely out of the loop and providing her with little informal power.

With Harry as captain, the balance of power shifted. His complete lack of interest in the nuts and bolts of running a space ship had left her as the sole channel between Harry and the rest of the crew. In essence, that made her Harry's surrogate in all matters technical and administrative, which gave her a wide swath of authority that she eagerly exploited. She wore the command ring. She passed on everyone's orders. She was the one to approach for further requests. With her de-facto decision-making powers, Claris had established herself as the queen of the ship. Of course, the prominent officer would never act against Harry's interests, but who said that she couldn't arrange a few matters here and there to her own liking? As long as she didn't hurt Harry's standing, life was good.

After a tense few weeks of navigating the asteroid field, they eventually reached the perimeter of Vlessing Base, one of the few independent pirate outposts along the lawless Jupiter Outback.

* * *

Helmsman Nicholas relayed the last few details that Vlessing Flight Control had requested. "And that's all we need for oxygen and fuel."

"Confirm receipt. Good luck on your approach, _Eviscerator_. VFC out."

Terry, the civilian intern who volunteered to be the quartermaster's mate, began to initiate a connection with the station's market interface. They had plenty of high-grade scanning equipment to sell from their bounty. The old _Helical Visage_ herself had already been taken off their hands by a station tug. This left the mobile carrier unencumbered and ready to dock with the station. The Evie smoothly coasted along the predetermined path towards one of the station's docking beam.

Lieutenant Claris nodded at the smooth proceedings and began to shut down the command chair's interfaces. Rising from her seat, she announced, "Inform me when we are five minutes away from docking with the station. I'll be heading to the Captain's Quarters to inform our Master of our arrival."

Only thirty seconds passed after her departure before someone began to throw a comment. "That ass tease doesn't know when to stop. Sheesh, she's all 'yes master anything you say master' over that cheeky Captain Kid. Next thing we know she'll be calling him 'your highness' or 'your majesty'."

"Well," Nicolas mused, "For someone who can boil your skin with a wave of the hand, I don't care how much I have to kiss Captain Kid's arse to keep my body the way it is right now."

"Not that he'd want you to. He's got that hot medical doctor and Miss Queen to baby his backside. Maybe you can clean his toilet instead. Who knows, maybe waving around his shit will give you magic powers."

The whole bridge crew erupted into laughter, with the exception of Terry who seemed to be engrossed in comparing the market prices for the goods he had to sell.

Jennings, the middle-aged navigator, looked up from his empty console and said, "Hey guys, maybe it's not a bad thing kiddo got rid of old Hargrave. Don't get me wrong, Hargrave was a good man and a solid captain, but lately he was losing his nerve."

"We were raking in fewer credits each job." Stacy, the weapon's officer supplied. "Heck, this last job was practically a cakewalk if it wasn't for Captain Kid."

"Exactly. We all knew Hargrave had always been rather cautious and we all chose to serve under him because of that. But when you look at our last ten hauls, the jobs were starting to get ridiculously easy. If our bounties kept shrinking like this, I won't be able to afford the mansion on Pluto that I always dreamed about when I retired."

While Nicolas understood the sentiment, the helmsman wasn't one to agree completely. "Trouble is stirring up everywhere since the Martians making loud noises again. Everyone's up in their toes, so our old captain just thought he'd lay low by taking more unimportant jobs for a while. Captain Kid obviously knows squat about actually captaining a ship, let alone being a pirate. I heard he's desperate to earn enough credits for a catapult passage. Who knows what kind of insane jobs he'll take us to? You can't deny that Hargrave kept us safe."

Someone snorted. "If I'd wanted to be safe I'd go back to kindergarten."

"Don't forget to take Captain Kid with you. He'd fit right in!"

Another round of laughter echoed in the bridge. Even Terry couldn't restrain his humor.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	5. I: The Most Gracious - Repost

March 31, 2011  
Repost: November 6, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Most Gracious_

* * *

A millennia was a long time. Would it not be any surprise that something so old started to fall apart? Nothing was permanent. Great structures rotted and fell into unrecognizable ruins. Corpses decomposed into bones, eventually breaking down into dust and molecules. Only through extraordinary preservation methods could something achieve a measure of agelessness.

Apparently, in this age, wine that originated back in Harry own time traded hands for billions of credits in today's exchanges. Oh, he loved a good mug of firewhiskey now and then, but anything strong would do. The pair of Old Neptunian 2911's Captain Hargrave had stashed in his closet performed a decent job in clenching his thirst.

But Harry didn't care about vintage wine. He concerned himself more in the state of his equipment, the contents of his trunk in particular.

Magical trunks were never meant to last indefinitely. Sure, the artisans did take into account that they might be used a little longer than what an average muggle would keep, but even the most stodgiest purebloods didn't think trunks were worth keeping out of tradition.

They were never meant to store perishable goods for many centuries at a time. Since the boy wasn't that much of a Potions Master (courtesy of a greasy-haired bastard), he never really cared how delicately he had to store his magical ingredients. In the end, when he checked all his trunks, he came across a lot of unpleasant sights. Most of the dry stuff survived, but a lot of the liquids such as the oh-so-valuable Dragon's Blood had decayed into useless puss.

The lack of surviving reagents limited Harry's options. Most of the more permanent magical effects needed an anchor in the material world in the form of a magical conductor. With almost no means to replenish his magical ingredients, he would eventually run out material to work on.

After checking his entire inventory, he set his sights on himself. All the years in stasis definitely deteriorated his strength. He certainly didn't feel in his prime. He only needed to find how much he had lost.

This required critical self-reflection to such a degree he could ill afford distractions. So he let Claris run the ship and locked himself in his cabins, giving out specific orders not be disturbed in his time of solitude.

The mental journey proved insightful in several disturbing ways.

The ravages of time had not left his body unmolested. The stasis that had taken hold over his body did not retard the passage of time in the traditional sense. The wizards who designed his prison deliberately neglected his well-being. They secretly hoped that whatever sustained his immortality would eventually fail through inactivity, letting him decay in their unbreakable prison.

The wizards and witches who cast the wards on the prison also did not realistically expect that Harry could be contained forever. They had a contingency plan in place that would trigger whenever the prison broke. Its effects were much more nefarious than the stasis.

It was pretty devious actually. Whoever added the array of wards did not forget to add some debilitating curses deep underneath. The curses were so damn sneaky and so low-powered that even Harry's constant reflections didn't detect them. The curses still lingered inside his body in fact, having gotten hundreds of years to lodge themselves in his very magical identity. The warped effects were by now so steeped in his magical signature that it was practically impossible to separate the two.

The truth came as hard as a freight train. In the end, the drain on his magical energies continued, siphoning his strength to power his own shackles. The more he used his magic, the more he fed the curses that weaken his strength. This in turn enhanced the energy siphon, leading to an ever-growing cycle of drain and pain. Eventually, the drain would grow so large that it overtook his magical replenishment rate. His core would be slowly sucked dry of magic, which weakening his body to the point of paralysis or worse, force him into a perpetual coma.

The news, when it revealed its full extent, smacked Harry right across the face. It effectively neutered his high-powered options, and put a limit on even his low-level enchantments. Every expenditure of magic, no matter how small or insignificant accumulated towards his squibification.

This increased the urgency to gain access to his books and magical ingredients back on Earth. He could not afford to throw battle spells left and right in his activities all the way out in space. But without the advantage of magic, how could he gather credits fast enough to pay for a passage through the Gravitic Catapult?

Either he needed to earn the credits like a muggle, or waste two whole years on an unenhanced burn towards Earth. And that still left him with the United Earth Hegemony. They were a tough bunch to overcome. Passing through their immense blockade and legendary orbital defenses required great magics to cloak his ship. Maintaining those spells for hours or days would turn Harry in a vegetable by the time his ship could get past their patrols and land on Earth.

'_I've got no choice but to play along. For better or worse, I need this ship and its crew to find ways to earn more credits.'_

A chime sounded from his hatch. The embedded speakers in the room began to turn on. "Master Harry? May I enter your quarters?"

The wizard sighed. He had ordered that he was not to be disturbed unless something important happened. Hopefully his Second did not approach him for some trivial reason.

"Come in, my Second."

The door slid open, revealing Claris clad in a tight-fitting ensemble with archaic runes running electronically over her fabric. Her appearance resembled a military uniform, but with added touches to emphasize her pirate roots. From the records he read, contemporary pirates hated order and discipline and usually wore whatever they liked. His lieutenant neat appearance must likely be a deliberate choice then. Perhaps she had a history in the military? He quickly recognized the Nordic runes that ran digitally over her suit. Cute, but he could care less.

As soon as the woman stepped inside, she seemed paralyzed. It was not hard to guess why.

Every wall and every surface of his quarters were painted or carved with ritual circles and runes. Mayan, Egyptian, Scandinavian, there were designs from every major civilization up to the twenty-first century. He had utilized a handful of them to help him in his magical exploration, but he added most of them just in case he needed them. It didn't hurt to be prepared, especially when he wanted to do something drastic like healing himself but didn't want to use his wand magic.

If there was one advantage to using such elaborate markings, they could be constructed to draw power from alternative sources instead of a magical core. A wizard or witch's own magic served as the catalyst of the ritual, not the fuel. A tiny magical spark could initiate the magical reaction and facilitate the process. It was the poor squib's way to perform effective magic, and in his time, largely impractical. Wizards achieved much more impressive results with wand work. Since most magicals possessed a nigh-inexaustable magical core, diagrams and rune work had no place in field work.

That is until now.

Nodding to his subordinate, Harry motioned her to come closer. The woman stepped in his darkened room with visible caution, taking care to keep her heels off any markings he had carved into the floor.

"Master, I wish to inform you that we are on approach to Vlessing Base."

"Ah. Anything else?"

"Well.. the governor of the station wishes to meet with you in person at your earliest convenience." That usually meant as soon as the ship was docked, even Harry knew that. "He was an acquaintance of former Captain Hargrave and expressed some interest in the new owner of the _Eviscerator_. It is not wise to refuse the governor, sir."

'_Hmph, even scumbag pirates still engage in the niceties of politics. Some things never change.'_

"Very well. I suppose I can make a courtesy call. Do you know what to expect from this meeting?"

Claris thought carefully for a moment. Anything could happen. "The governor will likely invite you to an extended meal and ask you to relate the tale of your successful capture of the _Eviscerator_. No doubt he wishes to know how you have managed to avoid a mutiny of the ship's current crew."

That might be hard to explain to someone who Harry didn't want to reveal the full extent of his powers. This social call might prove be difficult, considering Harry's weak track record in cultivating favor amongst influential figures. Heck, he couldn't even make any friends amongst the Ministry of Magic's officials in his entire previous life.

'_I'd better bring Claris along. She looks like she knows how to socialize.'_

"I expect you to accompany to this meeting, Claris, so make sure you allocate instructions to my crew before we leave. Also, begin looking for opportunities to earn fast credits. I don't plan to stay idle here. I need more credits fast."

"For the Catapult fee?"

"Amongst other needs, but that is the most critical reason."

She almost didn't continue, but thought it wise not to deny her captain her advice. "Vlessing Base has fewer connections in the underground information circle. There are fewer targets of opportunity in this region of space. We'd have more luck earning credits at the much larger Trindebal Station. They're situated closer along the main space lanes."

"Trindebal.. where have I heard that before.."

"It's the same station that guards the Gravitic Catapult. The Callistoan Maffia controls them both."

"Oh. So I guess that's the place to be, then? I guess we can find some sidejob here that allows us to collect our payment in Trindebal. Can you take care of it, Claris?"

"It may take some time, master. I'll have to canvas the station with some of our crew to pick up the latest rumors."

"Make it a priority." Harry turned from the entrance and went back to his desk to study the ritual grimoire he had on hand. "You're dismissed."

Bowing slowly, Claris stepped back from the lip of the entrance. "I will return in an hour to escort you to the governor's compound. I would like to request that you prepare appropriate attire. That is, more appropriate to this.. time era. Will that be a problem?"

The Second was met with a single wave of his hand, indicating his lack of interest. She gave up and pressed the door to close before and doubling back to her own personal quarters.

She had only one hour to put on a suitable dress and have the makeup bot work on her face and hair. Her master hadn't even leered at her body during the entire boring voyage to Vlessing. One part of her was relieved she wouldn't be forced to do something humiliating like perform a blowjob in public. Another part of her felt worried that the overriped snatch called Selner might use her own charms to gain some sort of influence on the boy. '_That must never happen.'_ After years of drudgery, Claris finally achieved a position of power and prominence. She would do anything to keep it, even if it meant stirring up his captain. She never contemplated giving herself up like this for any captain, but Harry was _special_. She had a one in a lifetime chance to befriend a powerful wizard, and she could not let it go past.

It was time to remind Harry that she was also a woman.

* * *

Lilliane Selner wanted to die. She wanted to end her miserable life. The only problem was she wasn't sure she would manage to escape Harry's seemingly omnipotent powers. Even now, his brand on her arm continued to mock her former freedom. Every time she thought of a way to reveal Harry to the rest of the solar system, her brand lit up and her own veins would burn in excruciating pain. The harder she resisted, the more her body would suffer. It was as if all her rebellious thoughts fed the spell that shackled her will. Try as she might, she could not overcome her pain threshold and act in any detrimental fashion towards her owner.

She was completely, utterly, _his_.

"You need to get over it, Lily." Professor Zhang told her for the umpteenth time as he tinkered with his holopad. "Move on. Accept your fate. Make a new life out of yourself."

The chief medical officer of the _Eviscerator_ glared pitilessly at her superior. "That wasn't you having that monster's – _thing! _– in your mouth, stabbing in your throat, blocking your air pipe, slapping your cheeks, poking your eyes and god knows what else! I've never been so thoroughly defiled! Raped by a juvenile adolescent who is too drunk with his own powers to bother acting responsible." Dropping her face in her palms, she added dejectedly, "I'm married. I have a husband. There is no way I can ever come back to James now and face him as his wife."

The stares were the worst. Ever since her public humiliation, every male looked at her in a different light. They still respected her for her academic achievements – but lusted after her more blatantly, as if she suddenly became a whore. It was as if that single defining event had broken some sort of barrier that kept her former colleagues civil. Worse, 'real' pirates went a step further and demanded that she 'service' them as she had served the captain. Only with the help of the Chief of Security did she manage to warn off the ruffians. Some of them were even thrown in the brig to cool off. Evidently, the second in command, that overzealous siren named Claris, had ordered that the new civilians were off-limits. They were now crew who would be expected to work with them, not slaves to be toyed and used.

Frankly, Dr. Selner preferred to be a slave. At least there wouldn't be any need for this charade to continue. Though she had sworn to uphold the venerable doctor's oath, she rather slit her own wrists than help rapists and killers recover from their wounds. She was sure the pirate boarders she helped patched up were the same murderers who had killed all of the crew members aboard the _Helical Visage_. Practically everyone on this ship besides her fellow scientists had blood on their hands.

"I hate this new life." The bitter woman murmured, brushing back her auburn red hair from her resentful eyes. "It goes against _everything_ I stand for, for what the medical profession stands for."

The Asian had heard it all before. The woman had to overcome her traumatic experience in order to help him in his research. He needed a medical professional to study the things he couldn't.

"Aren't you the least interested in Harry himself? Think of the insights we can gain from our proximity to him and his magic. If we can unlock his secrets, we can give the gift of these powers to our race. We have the potential here to usher in a new era for all of mankind!"

The woman glared back at the professor with her flaming green eyes. "I'm disappointed in you, Zhang. We're stuck in a morally bankrupt hellhole, and you can do is to continue to obsess about your academic career."

Unabashed, Zhang took her accusation in stride. "We all have to make our own fortune in our lives. Not everyone is as lucky as you when you snagged a rich and powerful executive. When there are a hundred billion human beings in the solar system, it's hard to find meaning in your existence. Look, I thought I could pursue this goal by joining the Jupiter Outback expeditions. Clearly I was wrong with the way my rotten rivals at the Exploration Society have ratted us out to these pirates. But look at this new opportunity! It's practically our destiny to have access to one of the most unique and remarkable transhuman this age has ever known."

"Don't you call that _abomination_ a transhuman. He's a regression of humanity, not an improvement over us. We can't even confirm if he's descended from our species. How do you know he isn't some sort of extraterrestrial shape-shifter who copied our forms when we studied him when he was still stuck in that blue crystal?"

"We don't. Just because he exhibits an abnormality from baseline human capabilities doesn't make him an alien." Zhang responded calmly, though the cloud in his eyes signaled that he did take Selner's theories seriously. "Still, you are letting your emotions get too much in the way of rational thought. I know what you suffered through is awful, but you have to see the bright side!"

Selner grabbed the scruff of Zhang's coat and shoved him back from the desk he was leaning on. "There is nothing bright about this nightmare! We're stuck in this awful hell and all you can think about is your next scientific discovery!"

"Calm down, Lily! I take it all back. I went too far."

Before the female doctor could give the man some choice words, a soft alarm sounded in the over the medical bay.

"What is that?" Zhang asked.

The doctor didn't deign to respond and turned her back on the professor. She pressed some buttons on her console and summed up a status report.

Eventually, she slumped, all her anger forgotten. Her body shook and tears began to fall on her lap.

"What's wrong, Lily?" Concerned, Zhang stepped closer, though he kept enough sense to stay outside of her personal space. "Has Harry.. asked for you at last?"

She shook her head and pressed a single button, splashing the message she had just received on all the viewscreens. "No, it's worse."

"My god…" The man read the message again, trying to interpret its contents. "Why does he require an entire unit of each crewman's blood? And taken at every standard day? What use does he have for all that blood?"

There were plenty of uses, not that Selner knew anything about magic. Still, all the fantasy holovids portrayed every sorcerer that resorted to blood to power their magic as evil incarnate. Magic gained through death and torture would inevitably taint the soul of the caster. While she had no idea if that was actually true, she did not think the blood would be used responsibly by that little troll.

"Nothing good I imagine."

* * *

When the _Eviscerator_ finally docked alongside one of Vlessing's docking piers, the crew carried out their lockdown duties. Power generators were powered down and set in its lowest resting output. Weapon mounts were physically rendered incapable of activation. Engine thrusters were shuttered and screwed shut tight. That and many other adjustments were performed to satisfy the docking station's requirements. No station wanted to have a hot potato on their hands. When the mercenary inspectors boarded their craft and confirmed the ship was locked down sufficiently to their satisfaction, they left and authorized the ship to finish docking at the base (after sufficient 'compensation' of course).

One of the most puzzling instructions handed down from Harry through Claris was that, apart from a routine rotation of sitters, every member of the ship received liberty to enter the station and enjoyed its facilities. The crew thought it was strange that their new captain would give them so much liberty while he had coerced them into his service. Did Harry hold that much confident that his minions wouldn't attempt to desert? As the mark on their arms began to burn their veins, the pirates and former scientists quickly learned the same lesson Dr. Selner had found out: there was no escape from Captain Kid.

The career pirates shrugged and quickly went back on discussing which whores they would pay a visit. That Harry actually paid their allotted wages, along with a promise to pay them their full share on the proceeds of the sale of the _Helical Visage_ worked quite a way of earning him their acceptance.

The civilians however were not that easy to please, and most had no intention of soiling their reputations by being spotted entering a "vulgar establishment of hedonistic exploitation." as Dr. Selner venomously described. Professor Zhang, more mindful of his role on the ship as the supervisor and facilitator of his subordinates, had suggested a favor from Claris a day before their arrival.

"My men need something to do."

Looking up from her digital paperwork (what the heck was paper anyway?), the queen of the ship glanced at the aging academic with a questioning eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"I need you to do something for my former science team. They're not adjusting very well to their new lives in Harry's service. While you've graciously given them some shore leave, they're not inclined to go in on that offer. Entering a closed environment infested with mercenaries and criminals would only make them tenser. You need to acclimatize them into the pirate culture."

Leaning back on her plush, formfitting chair, she folded her fingers and asked, "What exactly would you have me do then, Zhang?"

"As I've said, let them accustom themselves to their new way of life by keeping them busy. If there is anything we science types are familiar with, it is diligent work. Give them some errands outside the ship that will take them a few days to complete. They'll discover that our new lives won't be that bad once they grow comfortable with the locals. Just don't confront them with the nastier side of the trade."

"Hmmm…" The second in command thought over Zhang's proposal. While it did sound like a solid idea, she wasn't quite willing to accept a flunky's suggestion. It would make her appear weak and impressionable to the crew. Besides, fulfilling Zhang's request would rip apart her timetable. The man could have at least approached her sooner with this idea instead of on the day of their arrival.

"I'll put a directive in the commandnet that will give you the authority to schedule your subordinates' shore assignments. Check the existing schedule and transfer any available non-sensitive duty to your men. I'll highlight a few tasks that I've already assigned to my other men that your people might be able to do themselves."

The lieutenant pressed a few other buttons and composed a short message. "I've put an official record in the logs that I've tasked you to manage your men. You're responsible for allocating all the available errands and composing each of your people's timetables."

She didn't mention that the logs would state the idea had come from her and her alone, leaving none of the credit to Zhang. The professor probably suspected her small ploy, but it was hardly a matter to take up to the captain directly.

With a friendly nod, Zhang turned around to leave the lieutenant's stateroom.

On his way out, Claris left him with a small warning. "I'm holding you personally responsible for the success and failure of the tasks sent in your way. If I find out that even one of yours has failed in some capacity, I _will_ take it out on you."

A short pause. Then, without a worry, he continued on his way. "Understood."

* * *

While Harry rather liked to stay cooped inside his cabin, he couldn't very well refuse a summons from the station's owner and boss. With only a single ship and restrained in his magical exertions, he had to get used to being lower in the food chain.

'_I'd be able to disembowel everyone on the station if only I had my books and a cure for my debilitating curses."_

Alas he would reach his limit long before he'd finish. Absently, he considered meeting the governor with his current battle outfit. Then he thought it might pay to fit in, even if he lost some vital protection. A quick glance inside Hargrave's closet quickly dissuaded him from that option.

'_No way I'm going to wear those ridiculous clothes. They're either so formfitting or extravagant that I would either feel naked or look like a pimp.'_

Shrugging, he cut his thumb and ran the wound through the top length of his wand. Casting a small charm, he was able to simulate the running symbols over his clothes without drawing any energy from his core. While blood acted as a modest substitute, all spellwork were based on the energy that only a magical core could provide sufficiently. Otherwise, every two-bit squib would be able to cast archmage-level spells.

Finishing up, Harry approached his door and opened it, only to come up to the sight of a fully dressed up Claris.

"..Wow. You look… wow."

"Well, master?"

"You look.. how do you say it.. classy."

Classy was indeed an apt description, and exactly what the beauty-conscious woman hoped for. She could have gone for any low-cut outfit that would have drawn a lot of attention to her exposed curves. Somehow, she didn't think Harry stoop so low. With a third of the crew of the fairer sex, he could just grab any number of them to satisfy his urges. No, in order to compel him with her beauty – and not her sexuality – was to rise above that common level. She resolved not to become one of his groupies. She resolved to be his queen.

Harry's eyes openly tracked her alluring figure as she twirled around for him. The blood red dress was fairly thick and reached down modestly down her knees. The fur jacket over her torso touched off the ensemble nicely and gave her the illusion of elegance. Her stiletto heels exposed her shiny manicured toenails that matched her elegantly pointed fingernails. Her trusses of dark hair was put up and woven into a circular braid that accentuated their silkiness. Her pale powdered face covered her faint natural freckles, providing a mirror of perfection that made her crimson-tinted lips stand out. The only feature that even hinted at her subordinate position was the small jeweled choker around his neck. A small line of electronic characters circled over the strip: _Magical_.

In effect, the entire outfit looked so far removed from her functional uniform that Harry would have no choice but to see her as a woman. On this particular outing, his Second transformed into the very definition of femininity.

"Wow.. Eh.." The admiring boy eventually closed his gaping mouth. "I thought this was just supposed to be a social call." He actually looked sheepish, as if he wasn't a spell-slinging murderer who could rip off someone's soul from their body. "Do I look underdressed?"

Such a silly question for a heartless woman abuser. "Of course not Master Harry. You look just _fine_._"_

'_Although you might have bothered to put on a perfume.'_

"Your outfit is very nostalgic. You might set a new fashion trend."

They both chuckled a little at that. They broke the ice. Harry reasserted himself a little and offered his hand, which Claris accepted with refined grace. The pair led themselves to the main airlock out to the station, drawing excited glances from every crewmember who passed by, particularly the men. Claris took the stares without any acknowledgement. Harry simply basked at the glory of being the partner of a gorgeous escort.

Cleveland, manning the guard post at the closed entrance himself, saluted both of them. From the way his eyes tracked with their movements, it seemed even he wasn't immune to Claris' allure. "S-Sirs!"

"Chief Cleveland." Claris greeted. "How goes the recruitment process for our new boarding crew?"

The man pulled his eyeballs back up from chest level and gave his brief results. "The local peoplenet is pretty typical this season. You got the usual dregs who'd shoot their own feet first before they manage to hit the enemy. Then you got the retirement-age veterans who overcharge their prices thrice fold. Getting any solid boarding crew who doesn't fall between the two is impossible through the open net. I'd have to scour the local joints on the station to flush them out."

"Well, do as much as you can, chief. With the proceeds from our latest bounty we won't be lacking in cash, so don't skim yourself. With a crack boarding crew in our midst, we can handle riskier jobs, especially with the help of our master. Our investment will pay off quickly then."

"R-right. I'll take that into account ma'm." Nodding again, the man unlocked the restraints that kept the airlock sealed. As the pair were about to enter the decompression chamber, the Chief of Security asked, "Master Harry? Can I make a request?"

Puzzled and a tiny bit annoyed, Harry paused in his steps and turned to face his minion. "What is it, chief?"

"Well, it's this rifle here." The man held up his artificed beam rifle. Its bizarre mix of colored components belied its devastating potential. "This beauty is nothing less than a miracle. Truly sir you are blessed with golden hands."

Noticing that Harry grew rather impatient, he quickly got to the point. "If you can fabricate more of these rifles, enough to equip a full squad at least, then I'm sure many enthusiasts will climb all over themselves to join our boarding crew. Only the Terrans and Martians have access to man-portable Class III infantry weapons, and they never export their good stuff. Everyone else here is just dying to get their hands on them. If we let the word out on the street that we got some quality gear, then we'll be flooded with offerings. Then it'll just be a matter of picking the cream from a very large crop."

He would have accepted the suggestion without a thought if the expenditure of magic didn't bother him. Unfortunately, it did. But maybe he could substitute the energy from another source…

Taking out a pad, he ran some numbers on his calculator. Cleveland looked anxious while Claris felt a bit miffed that Harry's attention had been drawn away from her beauty. This night was supposed to be a wonderful date for the both of them.

The boy finally nodded in satisfaction. "I'll do it,"

Before the boarder could make a whoop, Harry held up his hand. "But only if your recruit can provide at least two liters of blood per rifle. Also advise them to bring their existing rifles along with any other tech junk they can spare. I don't care where you get the blood from, if it's from multiple people, or what blood type it is, as long as it's human and fresh. Not a day older, clear?"

The warrior pirate seemed a little grossed out at the gruesome condition, but he eventually nodded. "I'll manage somehow, sir. You'll get your blood!"

Before the soldier could even begin to salute, Claris quickly grasped Harry's arm and pulled him through the inner airlock, letting the exit close. The warmth of her body radiated through the folds of his ancient wardress. Caught off-guard, Harry eventually eased his tensions and made himself comfortable alongside his partner. That he felt her breasts press ever so gently against his arm was reason enough to be content.

He hadn't felt this way since Ginny had died. That was ages ago. Perhaps he could relearn to enjoy the warm sensation in his heart.

* * *

The outer lock opened, greeting them to a sort of terminal filled with plenty of workers and crewmen from other ships. Dockworkers were offloading previously raided cargo, while other suppliers delivered truckloads of provisions and engine fuel. The activities also encompassed his own ship. A few of his deck hands doubled as cargo handlers, having been trained sufficiently in the trade of warehousing and transportation. While the pirate profession was – by its very nature – chaotic, it didn't mean that everyone in the trade were mindless brutes or lazy school dropouts. The world of space travel was infinitely complex, and running a ship required many different disciplines to know their stuff and work together. These outlaws had to be at least just as good as their merchant counterparts. A select few pirates could even rival their military-trained counterparts.

Even just outside the middle deck of the _Eviscerator, _the queen known as Claris did not fail to attract attention. As the pair traversed the gangplank, every nearby worker stole a few envious looks. It wasn't common for women to flaunt themselves so brazenly at a rough pirate establishment. Female pirates – especially the lower ranks – were too caught up in macho dynamics to emphasize their feminine nature. Women who acted a little too promiscuous usually ended up in brothels.

Not that Claris had anything to worry. With the mighty wizard at her side and a command ring on her finger, she might as well be invincible. The woman led the young man to a circular hoverpad. The device glowed blue in affirmation, and with a quick digital upload the pad moved in line to the specially designated lane for similar transport devices.

The ride was smooth and pleasant, Harry admitted. Built-in inertial compensators prevented the occupants from being thrown off whenever the device made a sharp turn. Many others travelled on the same device without a problem. The rest used duller means or simply used their feet.

"Wicked." The boy commented, letting out a childish grin that actually fit his physical age for once. "I remember in my time, they only had these geeky two-wheeled things with a dumb steering handle."

"If you wish, we can procure a smaller hoverpad for your private use."

"Nah, let's not waste all that money. We still need to collect a few hundred million credits."

Three hundred million was a humungous amount of money, enough to equip a small pirate fleet. That Harry casually mentioned the amount as if he could easily obtain the amount had tingled her spine. Harry was special.

They arrived at the entrance to the main hub of the space station. Beyond the gates were all the main facilities of the block-sized space station. The small but well-armed checkpoint blocked access to every form of traffic, including theirs. As their hoverpad moved first in line, a trio of heavily armored mercenary enforcers greeted their approach. They were dressed completely different from haphazard pirates who entered and exited the terminal. The mercenary guards actually looked quite badass in their reflective stream-lined plating. The way they held themselves up suggested that they were the toughest around and had the balls to back it up. Harry was sure that they could have kicked the asses of Hargrave's old boarding crew while playing chess.

"ID chit please."

Before Harry could wonder what the heck an ID chit was, Claris withdrew a pair of thumb-sized cubes and handed them over to the mono-eyed helmeted soldier. With the practiced ease, he slotted them into his wrist mount. The device beeped shortly after and the man handed back the cubes. Harry snatched up his own cube and slid it into one of his pockets. He'd examine it later.

"Claris, alias, executive officer of the mobile carrier _Eviscerator._ No irregularities since your last visit."

"Harry, surname absent, captain of the mobile carrier _Eviscerator_. First shoreside visit to Vlessing Base and first registered port-of-arrival. Hmm.." The mercenary eyed Harry suspiciously. "A moment please."

The man headed into his small workstation, inserted some commands, and then came back out. He handed a printed plastic-like sheet to Harry.

"Please observe the following regulations. First, this is a pirate base. Therefore, there is no police and no enforcement of any laws. This means that any Vlessing Base authorities will not be helping you find your lost wallet or kidnapped daughter or some retarted shit like that. If you want justice, just grab a gun and shoot the motherfucker who crossed you. Better yet, don't show yourself on the street at all without any weapon, or you'll just attract desperate muggers like a crackwank."

The man ran his eyes over both of them, noting that of the two, only Claris carried a weapon, and it was only a single pistol at that. "You better get yourself a gun real quick, son, or you won't survive at the end of the day."

"Thanks for the advice, but my girl can cover us both." Claris shivered slightly when Harry said 'my girl'.

"Secondly, we don't like to be blown up. No one on this station likes to be blown up in fact. So if you decide to shoot it out, at least do it somewhere private so we don't get any bystanders killed. Keep the damage contained to Class III or less. Any higher and we'll come down hard on you fuckers, and I mean REALLY fist-in-your-ass hard. No one likes some idiot blowing up a bulkhead and sucking us all out into space. This also applies to your ship. If there are ANY indications that you've tampered with your lockdown, we will isolate your docking terminal section and blast your ship apart with our station's beam lasers. We also have a handful of fighters and corvettes along with a frigate on patrol so don't think you can escape if you've landed on our shit list. We'll get your ass, whether you're on foot or on ship."

The whole lecture was getting tired. Harry already had the basics covered in the sheet the man had given him. "Are you finished yet?"

"Not yet, punk. Rule number three: in here, _we are kings_. Letat cest moo and all that Ancient Roman crap. Anyone you see wearing our colors or anyone under the governor's personal retainer is to be obeyed without question. It doesn't matter if any of us asks you to wipe our shit-stained asses with your tongue. We ask, you obey. You obey, we happy. We happy, you can leave the fuck alive with both your puberty-deprived balls intact. It's as simple as that."

The enclosure raised its barriers, opening the way to the central hub. The mercenary stepped out of the way and waved contemptuously. "Now have a nice fucking day, asshat."

Harry shrugged as their hoverpad went through the checkpoint. "What a friendly bunch."

"Everyone gets the same treatment, so don't take it personal."

Their hoverpad pulled into motion, leading them further into the resort-like interior of the space station. Harry was in awe. There were the bars and brothels lined up to the stations lower section. Then there were the middle establishments such as pawnshops and equipment sellers, dealing in everything from ship thrusters to luxury hydraporcelain toilets to the latest Venusian fashion (which were actually two years out of date according to Claris). The shop windows that showed off the latest personal weaponry immediately attracted Harry's attention. He spotted rifles, pistols, launchers – even collapsible crossbows, if you can believe it. They actually grew in popularity due to their stealth potential. Some crossbows could even be disassembled and put together in a different configuration to disguise itself as a clock or a datapad. Perfect for smuggling them into high-security sectors, according to the floating ads.

After ten minutes of sightseeing, they eventually arrived at some sort of reinforced compound. Mercenaries of the same type that manned the dock approached their hoverpad and went to work. They scanned their bodies and padded them for any weapons. Harry had managed to hide his wand so he wasn't worried, but Claris had to give up her pistol.

"You better give it back _exactly_ as I've left it, or you'll regret the day you were born." She growled.

"Yeah yeah missy we heard it all before, so keep your panties in your snatch. The govvie pays us good not to pull off any funny stuff."

The heavy double doors slid back, revealing a diamantine interior that screamed of wealth and extravagance. The layout and furnishings were actually quite typical to the old Victorian era mansions, with the crystal chandelier and double-arced stairways. Carpets of radiant white fur were carefully patterned in hexagons, while a collection three-dimensional holopaintings that hung on the jewel-encrusted walls carefully spilled into each other like a river of stereographic silk.

A single figure appeared at the edge of the handrails the floor above. His extravagant scaled one-piece suit looked like it was fashioned out of genuine diamonds, not the synthetic fabrications that made up much of the interior. The bright lights and other reflections sparkled along his entire body, obscuring much of his skin and other unwanted sights. The stranger topped off his ridiculous outfit with some sort of vomit brown horn-rimmed eyeglasses that flashed several random numbers per second, and a hat that could best be described as a ship in a bottle, except it was made out of crystal and the bottle conformed to his cranium.

The new arrival pumped both his fists outwards in a ridiculous Y-shape. "Welcome to my humble abode!"

His fingers then stretched out, spraying digital confetti in both directions. "You are in the presence of a great legend! Please do me an honor and step inside!"

As Harry and Claris reluctantly moved further, their host approached the pair in his own extravagant manner. He seated his jewel-crusted butt against the surface of the smoothened handrail and slid downwards along the curvature of one of the stairways. The friction generated by his sliding motion initiated some sort of reaction, causing the whole stairway to _screech_ out some kind of digital noise while glowing madly like some sort of demented kaleidoscope. Synthesized music boomed from all around them, supposedly to provide a majestic atmosphere, but having the completely opposite effect on Harry's overloaded senses.

Leaning his head to his partner, he softly whispered, "Please don't tell me this is fashionable in this age."

Claris grimly met his eyes, but left it at that as their host neared speaking distance.

The dirty blond man grinned excitedly as swept close, revealing his _perfect_ set of diamond teeth. "Ah, Claris, we meet again, and my oh my, you look _stunningly _bodacious_._ You are an absolute beauty!" With a total lack of propriety, the man knelt on his knee and grabbed Claris' palm to slobber his lips all over her skin in a perversion of knightly custom. The owner of the aforementioned palm managed to maintain a polite smile during the entire ordeal.

When the man finally stepped away and dab at his spit-covered lips with a handkerchief he pulled out of a place Harry didn't want to find out, the governor met his male guest with an appreciative expression.

"And here we have the little wildcat who trounced the old dog Hargrave from his little junkyard throne! A complete stranger with no entries in any databases, no listings in any crime logs, not even a mention in the bounty records. My, my, my, either you have the most capable data hackers working for you, or you are actually just a kid sprung out of nowhere!"

This time Harry didn't manage to restrain his frown. "Who the heck are you anyway?"

"Oh how rude of me." The man held out his palm to cover his fake falsetto laugh. "Let me introduce myself properly. I am…"

He thrust his left hand out to the side. The entire left wing of the mansion exploded in a holographic cacophony of orange.

"The Most Gracious,"

His other hand followed in the opposite direction, causing a similar explosion of light to erupt in the other wing, this time in purple and accompanied by a strange 8-bit tune.

"The Most Elegant,"

His left hand then slapped on top of his right shoulder, as if he was repeating the Macarena. The floor lit up in yellow brightness and began to echo a thunderous bass beat.

"The Most Persistent,"

The right hand followed its opposite, making it seem as if he was an Egyptian pharaoh resting in his sarcophagus. The ceiling lightened into a shade of ocean blue, adding an electric riff to the discordant noise.

"The Most Admirable,"

He retracted both his hands from his shoulders and spread them back out into a Y-shape. Digital red dust trailed their motions – dust which continued to float in place.

Suddenly, the entire room dimmed into total darkness, cutting off the orchestra of synthetic music that previously pumped from every portion of the mansion.

Then, the chandelier lit into miniature novas, directing a colorless spotlight directly over the governor's crystalline form. His entire surface, including his exposed face sparkled with the intensity of a miniature galaxy. After letting his guests admire his posture, the man bowed slowly and deliberately in a formal manner, the red trail of dust continuing to spill out from his palms.

The dust then took a life of their own, spelling the man's name in cursive handwriting.

With a calm and serious tone, the stranger finally announced his identity.

"Pierre Antoine Dolohov."

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	6. I: Captain Kid - Repost

April 1, 2011  
Repost: November 7, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** I'm glad America re-elected President Obama for a second term, although Republican control in the House of Representatives will remain a huge obstruction. As a European, President Obama is far more preferable to me than Romney, who appears much more beholden to special interests and is as principled as a wind vane. Romney also in some ways presents an avenue for the old 'America, fuck yeah!' crowd to return to power. Their irrational disgust to anything that looks like 'European socialism' is quite bigoted and blinds them to solutions that may serve their country well even if they do not match their ideology.

In the area of economic policy, the Democrats aren't deluded enough to believe that lowering tax rates and raising defense spending will magically lower the deficit. The Laffer Curve isn't that strong and Romney's promise of closing loopholes just isn't credible enough to make that work. Also, in many regards, the Republican Party appears much more likely to bend to large corporations and extend unreasonable favors to them. The Democrats at least do not let the free market run out of control and regard it as an almost magical solution to everything. Capitalism is all well and good, but regulation is needed in order to make it serve society instead of just their shareholders to the detriment of everyone else.

In foreign policy, the Republican stance regarding Israel is sheer folly, only encouraging the country to be more belligerent, reckless and discriminatory in their treatment towards the Palestinians and Iran. The United States' so-called alliance to Israel is not an asset but a burden, because unconditional support encourages excesses such as illegal settlements, bullying and other unethical behavior unbecoming of a modern country. All of that bad behavior perpetrated by Israel therefore lowers America's reputation around the world in turn. Obama at least shows a willingness to reproach such excesses. Regarding Afghanistan, while I hate to say it, but it's practically a lost cause. Too much manpower is required to keep the country 'liberal'. Karzai stole the last elections and the ruling class is composed of corrupt warlords who will tear each other apart. In the absence of political will in the West, we should just let it go, even if the country will collapse into Taliban rule. I know this is a pessimistic prediction but it is a realistic one. Drones are no substitute to boots on the ground.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Captain Kid_

* * *

Like many other spacer bars, the one at the outer corner of the lower hub had a silly name. The _Gwendolyn_ was one of many watering holes the Vlessing outpost hosted that catered to pirates and other space scum. Outlaw crewmen didn't have much money to spend, after all, and the little they possessed was wasted on booze and sex. The establishments at the station were therefore prime positioned to take advantage of the spendthrift nature of these freewheeling spacers. Each of them made it their sole purpose to suck every inch of credits out of their clients' pockets before the night was over. The _Gwendolyn _included.

The place resembled more of a dump than a bar. Its interior had been sloppily slapped together using scrapped corrugated metal and over-recycled plastics. The mugs were chipped psuedoglass that appeared so foggy that a health inspector would get a heart attack if he ever saw them. Cheap omnilights that constantly required repair caused the already dingy interior to darken even further. The bar stools, chairs and booths were stained with cigarette burns and spilled liquor. A few abandoned pool tables and other assorted entertainment were tucked into the far corner, all of them too banged up to play a fair game, if any at all. In such a grimy state, the _Gwendolyn_ hardly seemed capable of attracting a loyal clientele.

Yet the _Eviscerator_'s bridge crew happened to frequent this watering hole quite often whenever they docked in Vlessing.

"Hey Jennings, my favorite navvie!" The fat proprietor yelled from behind his bar. A couple of solitary chain smokers puffed their cigarettes at the counter, practically obscuring the owner from sight. "Heard you were back in port, along with another tidbit of news. Is it true that old Hargrave kicked the bucket?"

The eldest amongst the bridge crew nodded. "Yeah, it's true, Cilder. We got some skinny kid in charge now."

"A kid? How did that happen? Can't you overpower him and take control over the ol' Evie yourself?"

"Hah, don't fool yourself." Stacy, the weapons officer, interjected as she led the party to one of the roomy booths. "The kiddo's mean. Captain Kid'll flay you alive if you try to pull a fast one on him!"

Jennings, having selecting everyone's orders from the display integrated in their table, concurred with the sentiment. "The old skipper along with more than half of our boarding team were slaughtered like pigs. Don't get fooled by his age. He's a nasty piece of work and a butcher at heart. Heck, half of the captains I've served under can't even collectively measure up to Kiddo's ruthlessness. He's the devil's spawn, and I mean that literally."

"Oh? Sounds like you've got quite the respect for your new boss." Cilder trailed as he poured in the mugs filled with the usual fare for the bridge crew. "So I take it he's not just another regular psychopath?"

"The kid's completely fucked up." Helmsman Nicholas supplied with more than a passing undertone of fear. "Shit man, I'd rather have a knife plunge into my balls than suffer anything Captain Kid dishes out with his Stick of Death."

One of the other crew of sailors turned up at comment. "Wha-, deathstick? You pussies scared of a branch-wielding toddler or sumthing?"

The man chugged the rest of his beer only to barf half of it back out over his soiled shirt. "_Ohh, look at me, I'm a big mean pirate who killed hundreds of people but I'm all shivering in terror cuz of this scary baby!_"

The entire room lit up in amused noises as others began to make baby sounds. "_Coochie coochie coo, pirate want a diaper?_"

The crew of the Evie just sat glumly in their seats and took the jokes that were strewn about in stride.

"Laugh all you want, boys, because it'll be the last thing you'll do if Captain Kid finds out."

The warning went largely unheeded, however.

"Fuck no man, I'm not gonna get pushed over by a toddler. Maybe we'll pay a visit to your little ship and see how _big_ and _scary_ this tiny captain of yours really is. I mean, how hard would it be to put a laser through his forehead?"

"You're welcome to try, boys." The Evie's weapons officer offered grimly, already sure of the bloody outcome. "I won't shed a tear if our Kid meets an unfortunate end. Just don't expect any help from us or any other Evie crewmember. Kiddo will just kill us all after he first rips out the kidneys from you stupid lot."

"Sounds good." The lead pirate responded confidently, gears already turning in his drunken head. "Looks like the Evies won't object seeing their new captain getting offed. So who's in for a hit job?"

Another pirate chipped in. "Hit Job? Fuck yeah I'm in, Vinson. I know some boys back at my barge who'd enjoy some easy pickings. How hard could it be to snatch that beauty of a mobile carrier away from his cuddly whiddle fingers?"

The dominant pirate chuckled savagely as he interacted with his holopad. Already he had a crew of five well-armed brawlers onboard for this little side expedition.

"Like taking candy from a baby."

* * *

The dining chamber looked as resplendent as the foyer. The smooth crystalline lines and sharp geometric angles formed a pyramid enclosure that focused the eyes towards the center. Water and motion took the stage, with several transparent aqueducts running crisscross over everyone's heads. The sheer complexity and reconfigurable structures must have cost quite a fortune to set up. Floating staves of quartz provided harsh illumination. Their merry dance in the air caused the reflections and shadows to constantly morph into different shapes.

In the middle, a small luxurious banquet resided on a transparent three-sided table. A trio of icicle chairs chilled by insulating film awaited their guests. Without further ado, Governor Dolohov (or Pierre as he preferred to be called) landed his diamond-covered backside on the freezing chair and started gobbling up the meal with gusto. Shrugging, Captain Harry and Lieutenant Claris joined him and sedately dug into their meals.

'_At least the people still use forks and knives in this time period.'_

As Harry tried to pick something that didn't look like it was regurgitated out of a pig's stomach, Pierre began to make conversation.

"So please tell me of your roots, my esteemed Harry. Are you a Terran or Martian exile? A Plutonian nobody who came out here to make a fortune? Or a Mercurian fanatic out to harvest more lives for your sun god? Please _do_ tell me all your juicy secrets."

The dining wizard had no intention of spilling his guts. Instead, he smiled sardonically and remarked, "Why, my secrets won't be as juicy if I tell it to you straight. I'm sure you'll find it more of a challenge if you can wring out my story from other sources."

The Dolohov tipped his ridiculous crystal ship-in-a-bottle hat in reply. "Touché, my young detective mystery. I do find it pleasing to dig the truth out of you newcomers from my extensive network. I have many connections, you know. Have you checked out my profile page on peoplenet? I've got 119,005 friends. One of them will _surely _know of a contact who is familiar with you. It's what all the scoundrels in my business do. So tread carefully Harry, lest you slip something delicate."

The only thing Harry wanted to do was to throw away the plate of cow testicles sitting odorously in front of him and immediately Legilimens the annoying git. It was too much of a coincidence to meet a Dolohov. Was this guy related to Dolohov the Death Eater? Was he a magical of some kind? Did this new Dolohov suspect that Harry could perform magic? There were so many questions tumbling in his mind that he neglected his meal entirely.

He couldn't just grab his wand and sling a couple of spells at the crystal-garbed clown. If there was one thing this Dolohov had demonstrated, it was that this compound of his was probably protected by an abundance of high-tech gadgets. All the light shows, floating holograms and other vain decorations might just be decoys. Heck, an embarrassment such as Dolohov couldn't possibly accumulate this much power from his saner rivals _without_ having some sort of ace up his sleeve. Did he possess the ability to perform magic, or some evolved variant of it? Without any further intelligence, Harry didn't have much options available. He couldn't reveal himself too soon.

"Can I ask you a question, Dolohov?"

"Why certainly, my esteemed Harry, but only if you but call me Pierre." The man's glasses glowed bright red that coincided with his emotional state. "Dolohov is such a distasteful name. It is so.. unrefined. Ugh."

"Ah, Pierre then. I just recalled that I once knew another Dolohov back a few years ago."

Pierre's eyebrows rose as his diamond grin widened. He leaned forward in apt attention. "Please _do_ tell me more, young man."

"We ran in different crews, y'know, so we weren't all that close. He seemed about your age, but he dressed a lot scruffier and his hair was darker. We were bumping on each other's territory, so eventually our crews began to clash. My side won in the end, but I don't know what happened to that other Dolohov fellow though. He might have been killed, but I hadn't paid attention to him. He might've gotten away."

"How.. interesting that a namesake of mine has been in conflict with you." The man chewed on his spoon, actually cracking the eating utensil with his hardened teeth. "I gather from your story that you two fought to control a neighborhood on some space station or colony. How is it that you suddenly ended up here then?"

The boy shrugged dismissively. "I had a few.. disagreements with my old crew. They stabbed me in the back and offed into space. Grateful fellows, they are."

"Ah, betrayal always strikes the best of us." The man grinned slightly wider. "Might I ask, are you planning to take revenge on your crew? Is that why you took over the _Eviscerator_?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Sampling the wine, Harry mulled over his next words carefully. "I already left a farewell gift to them so I'm not terribly interested. Right now, I'm just out to make a new life here, see all the wonderful worlds and such."

"And you just decided to grab a random pirate ship for your own needs, hmm?" Pierre turned to Claris, who was doing her best to be unobtrusive. "My dear Claris, did you perhaps have a hand in this transfer of ownership?"

Her bright red lips snarled a little, though in good humor. "Why Pierre, I resent such brazen accusations. My hand had nothing to do with Harry's rise to power. It was _all_ him."

"My Second exaggerates a little." Harry added as he lightly squeezed Claris' thigh. It wouldn't do for his fan to hype up his prowess. "My takeover isn't as impressive as it sounds. The crew were fed up with the menial jobs, and I just presented them with a more thrilling alternative. It's so easy to sway a disgruntled crowd. People often underestimate proper leadership. Wouldn't you say so, Pierre?"

A pause settled into their conversation. Harry picked at his food, trying to ingest as little of the disgusting dishes on the table as he politely got away with. Claris serenely continued to nibble as if nothing unusual had occurred. Only Pierre seemed to have lost his appetite.

The host abruptly put down his utensils and faced his guests with a serious expression.

"My dear Harry. Too often one can find oneself under the direction of either a tyrant or an incompetent. The qualities of good and caring stewardship are often unappreciated, as you say. You can either suffer under the toil of unappreciated labor, or rid yourself from your cuffs and rise to a level of power that puts you beyond rebuke. The latter is exactly what I have achieved."

He spread his hands out, trailing a little red dust from his motion. "What you see here is my personal empire. A dominion where no one stands higher than I, the Great Pierre, the Enlightener, the Bashful, and the Talented. Here in my self-designed fortress, I can finally express my true nature without facing the mockery and disgust of the uncouth masses. It matters not how far my tastes run away from the norm, for in this space station it is _I_ who hold all the strings. If anything, the sheep actually complement me for my cutting edge fashion. Those ignorant simpletons are so self-serving."

The wizard set his glass down and took the time to formulate his own reply.

"But are you content?" Harry gestured at the floating quartz crystals and the rest of the mansion's gaudy interior. "Sure, you've built yourself a nice fantasy castle and staffed it with people who won't laugh right back in your face. But do you really think you can escape from the rest of the world like that? All you've managed to do is wrap yourself in the lies of your sycophants. You really don't amount to much in reality. Compared to the big boys, you're still a deluded boy who fortified himself in a sandbox. That is hardly the mark of success."

Lips twitching, Pierre visibly glared from the indignity Harry dished out. "Those are very brave words, young man. Most would not even conceive to criticize me in the midst of my defenses. I can make your life very miserable for you. There are many ways I can sabotage your little tugboat that's currently docked at my station."

Having grown slightly worried, Claris tried to intervene, but Harry squeezed her thigh yet again, not willing to back down yet. "Am I not doing you a favor? I'm telling you the way it is, not the way you like it to be. It's all too easy for power-hungry leaders to get caught up in their own warped perception. A cold shower or a slap in the face might be all that is needed for them to wake up from their daydreams."

Taking his glass, Harry gulped down the rest of the contents and threw the glass back down. He rose from the freezing ice chair and dragged Claris up to her feet. Harry bowed to his host in mocked appreciation.

"I enjoyed our little lunch, but forgive me if I am a bit unaccustomed to your sophisticated tastes. My vulgar tongue is too familiar with simple grub to appreciate your refined cuisine. In any case, may your fate wind up differently than the fate of your namesake. Have a good day, Dolohov."

Their steps out of the crystal dining hall echoed throughout the entire hollow chamber. Pierre Antoine Dolohov sat back in his freezing seat to ponder Harry's words. He had to admit that Harry was something else, and that their meeting ended much more differently than he had expected.

Still, despite having a bite of all his favorite dishes, Pierre still tasted a foul aftertaste. Some pills were just meant to be bitter.

"You'll regret insulting _perfection_, Captain Kid."

* * *

Despite the occasional presence of mobile carriers and other larger classes, the piracy trade most often revolved around corvettes. Developed by the military as gunships, they were meant to tear apart fighters and bombers, but worked equally well in batting away mercenary escorts or forcing a cargo hauler to heave to. Their popularity stemmed from their ease of manufacture and the loose restrictions on their configurations and sales. Their build philosophy combined flexibility with toughness. Their speed insured that no transport could outrun them, while their relatively thick hide for their size class meant that they could glance off whatever civilian-grade turrets could throw at them.

Of course, the primary reason for their popularity was that they were dirt-cheap. It wasn't rare to see pirates purchasing their own corvettes after a string of extremely successful raids. Their sheer numbers also cultivated a healthy market for afterparts and illegal modifications.

While they couldn't match up to the larger frigates and mobile carriers in firepower or endurance, their abundance insured there would always be plenty of other corvettes to team up for a big job. This allowed for like-minded pirates to form a temporary partnership in order to overpower larger preys, such as a corporate convoy. Convoys usually carried far more valuable trade goods than any single independent trader, and most often those goods were proprietary materials not available in the open market. The risks were well worth it if a gang could manage to sell those goods to a rival corporation.

Yet, it would be quite a challenge actually gathering a band of selfish and egoistic pirate captains and convincing them to work under a single leader. The risk of getting ambushed or double-crossed was too great – such treachery often came to pass. With neither laws nor honor to back up an agreement, a visionary leader needed to rely solely on trust and charisma to keep every participant in the game.

Matsas had the fortune of participating in such a highly daring raid very early in his career. He remembered how Captain Hargrave, still a risk-taking corvette captain at the time, used all of his personal gravitas to band together a force of five for an audacious smash and grab on some Fonven Corporation gold train. Under Hargrave's calm direction, all of the corvettes had managed to barrel through the unprepared escorts, hit the cargo haulers hard, and made off with a container of the shiny yellow metal.

The corvette captain would never forget that glorious adventure in his life.

"Captain!" A runner yelled as he barged into the bridge of the_ Vortex Spine_. "I've got urgent news! Some of the crew's gone wild!"

The bearded heavyset man spun his captain's seat to face his subordinate. "What is it now, Vladinsky? Don't tell me another one of my sailors managed to get shot?"

"No, sir, it's bigger than that. Chief Vinson is gathering up most of our crew along with a few other boys for a hit job on the _Eviscerator_'s new captain."

"What?" The man slid his pudgy ass from his cushioned seat and looked out of the viewscreen towards the bigger vessel a docket away. "I heard about how old Hargrave kicked the bucket, but Vinson's a fool if he can overpower a crew of forty with only a dozen men under his command."

The runner shook his head. "The situation's different. The Evies don't care a whiff about their captain, so they won't put up a fight. Last Vinson heard, the kid captain is out shopping in the hub alone with just a lightly armed escort. Vinson thinks he can overpower him easily and pry off the command ring from his finger."

"Dumbasses." Captain Matsas collapsed in his seat and leaned his head against his knuckles. "The idiots. I know Hargrave. I met Hargrave. And you know what? He might not be the best captain in the trade, but he's as solid as a rock. He's anything but a fool. Whoever got rid of him and prevented a mutiny must be good, _real_ good. Vinson probably doesn't even realize the kid's likely a figurehead. Heck, no one with a command ring would ever go out in the hub with just a single escort."

Both of them wallowed in silence. Eventually, the young raider asked, "What do we do, skipper?"

Taking a deep breath and letting the air run out of his nose, the captain gathered his thoughts. With steely eyes he pulled his custom laser pistol from his hip, but put it back in its holster and sighed again.

"What else can we do? We wait. Either Vinson will succeed, or he won't. If he does, he'll be off my hands. If he doesn't, he'll die along with the rest of my crew, which will be very unfortunate for us. If the chief messes up, he'll leave us stranded and possibly force us to deal with a very irate young man with plenty of blood on his hands."

The two set about sealing the entry hatch and fortifying it with whatever they could shove in front of it. Matsas didn't want to surrender his corvette without a fight.

* * *

After Claris retrieved her beloved pistol from Dolohov's guards, the pair travelled rode their hoverpad to the inner hub of Vlessing Base. Harry didn't have a specific destination in mind. Instead, he just distracted himself observing the weirdness around him and gazing at the outlandish products for sale.

"Master Harry?" Claris began with concern. The boy had not spoken a word to her since they left the governor's mansion. "Have I displeased you in some way?"

Her concerns eased away when he smiled and waved his hand in an absent gesture. "Nah, nothing's wrong. It's just that Dolohov guy. The Dolohov I fought with a long time ago was a ruthless killer. I can't just shake my eyes and pretend there's no connection. I mean, how many Dolohovs are there in this universe?"

His Second retrieved her pad from her fur coat and accessed the solarnet. "According to the official records, there are over fifty-seven million individuals with the surname Dolohov. Most of them are settled on Mars, but there are plenty Dolohovs amongst Jupiter's many moons. Maybe it's just a coincidence, sir."

The two travelled in silence for a while and enjoyed the sights. Eventually, on their third round along the hub, Harry directed the hoverpad to land at a gun store.

"Master?"

Noticing the puzzlement on his servant's face, Harry sighed and explained his reasoning, taking care he didn't reveal too much in public. "I might be powerful with my 'stick', but sometimes I don't want to expose myself. Remember, no one knows my true strength, and I'd like to keep it that way."

'_Not to mention I need to lower my dependency on my magical core. That reminds me, my servant's pistol is still keyed to my magic. I can't let that vulnerability continue to threaten me, but if I take away her gift she'll probably take it badly.'_

Oh well, he'd find another solution. First, he needed to take care of his own needs.

Compared to the larger weapon malls stationed in the outer hub, the shop they entered was more akin to a boutique. The luxurious fabric interior and authentic wooden paneling (genuinely sourced from Earth) gave off an aura of aged refinement. The store featured splendid examples of highly polished works of art that rested upon soft satin pillows or hung like trophies against a tall oak panel. The store's selection was fairly limited – mainly pistols and a few of the faddish crossbows, but they suited Harry just fine. _'I'm not used to bulky weapons.'_

The skinny grey-haired proprietor instantly shook off his doziness and approached his new customers with customary eagerness. The old man bowed and greeted Claris first. "Welcome to Stodgy's Vintage and Mastercraft Firearms! I am Ezekiel Stodgy, how may I help you, madame captain?"

Claris coughed embarrassingly and gestured to her companion. "I apologize. You mistake us. I am merely holding the command ring for my superior."

"Ah, I see." The man brushed his gray stubble as he appraised the young man before him. "How can I assist you then, Captain…?"

"Harry." He said, and waved his hands at the displays. "I was hovering by and couldn't help but notice your.. antiques. Can you tell me more about them?"

The proprietor's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "It's been so long since someone's showed any interest in my treasures." He guided his customers to the front of the shop, where an array of sixteen different pistols hovered silently behind the thick armored display wall. "These solid-projectile sidearms are certifiable antiques. None of them have been manufactured after their model's last commercial production run. Most of these specimens are fully operational. I test them extensively for any flaws or abnormalities that might undermine their smooth functioning. As long as they are fired by _premium_-issue ammunition, they will never break down."

The shopkeeper's greedy grin hinted that premium-issue ammunition might not make that much of a difference. Not that Harry particularly cared.

"What's the oldest gun in this lot?"

The man frowned slightly at the term 'gun', but wiped it off his face. Instead, he commanded his suit to form a transparent film over his hands. Raising his covered palms, he carefully guided one of the hovering pistols to fall into his sterile grip.

"This is the PoleStar EET-55 Coil-Accelerated Revolver, or 'Gauss Eater' as its contemporaries usually referred them to. The model enjoyed considerable popularity in the latter half of the 22nd century due to its ruggedness and prodigious penetrating power. This particular antique replica was manufactured in 2334 on Mars and is modified to be partially compatible with VyneTech and Holarion's upgrade module systems. With modern adaptors, this pistol can take full advantage of the latest enhancements such as optimal sniping, conditional trigger or heavy gravity operation."

Impressed, the boy reached out with his hand. "Can I hold the revolver?"

"Be my guest, although I would like to request you to seal your palms before you grip the weapon."

His helpful assistant solved his little dilemma by taking his hands in her own. Claris used her suit's functions to exert a plastic-like film over the skin of his hands. He nodded his thanks and turned to take the revolver from the proprietor's hands.

"Oof."

The gun was heavy, at least from the few handguns he had actually handled back in his own time. The revolver's surface gleamed in plain grey steel, completely unlike modern toy-like pistols constructed out of the most lightweight and heat-absorbing polymers. The coilgun was a puncher, a heavy fist that could smash through any flimsy ceramic-weave armor used abundantly in its time. The heavy caliber rounds carried an integrated magnetic charge that, when the firing pin struck, would conduct the charge through the coils sandwiched between the inner and outer barrel, flinging the round from its muzzle at near-supersonic speeds. Proto-inertial dampeners integrated in the handle of the revolver barely dampened the monstrous kickback, preventing all but the most fragile wielders from breaking their wrists.

"For a small price, I can provide you with an alternative set of more modern battery-fed inertial dampeners that would fit in the handle of this revolver. They'll be able to negate over 99.9 percent of the recoil, insuring a smooth and pleasant firing experience. With your rather.. lean wrists, I would consider it a prudent investment."

"No thanks." Harry turned the gun to inspect every corner of the gun. He cocked the firing hammer and tested the trigger. He opened the revolving chamber and looked at the six empty cylinders that would be able to hold its devastating rounds.

"What about the power of this gun? How does it stack up to modern pistols?"

"The thing is an antique, Master Harry." Claris snorted, and patted her own plasma pistol affectionately. "No one uses gauss guns anymore for five hundred years. It's ancient history. They're too heavy, too bulky, too inefficient, and they have a bitch of a cooling cycle. All that and they only have the punching power of a simple Class I kinetic pistol. There's too many compromises involved in their construction that, with the rise of sidearms that utilize self-propelled rounds, manufacturers have given up on this technology."

The smirk that was plastered Harry's face was in total contrast to Claris' opinion. "Perfect."

"An excellent judgment, lord captain." Stodgy followed up. "The design represents a milestone of Martian engineering. The model is one of many that established the Fourth Planet's reputation for mechanical excellence. Most Martians have not forgotten its historical significance in the First Interplanetary War even today. This weapon model drove an oppressed colony to succeed in its dreams of gaining independence. Many heroes have achieved much greatness with the help of this firearm. I am glad that a curious young man such as you appreciates its legacy."

After a few more practical questions, Harry finally made the jump. "I'll take it. How much for the gun and some ammo?"

"Fifty thousand standard credits for the pistol, and that is the final price."

Claris, using her womanly wiles, conveniently managed to haggle six thousand credits off his initial offer. When they were both satisfied with their terms, Claris authorized the credit transfer. She privately grimaced from the exorbitant price that the shopkeeper charged for a severely underperforming weapon. The cheapest pulse pistols could match the coil revolver's power while suffering from none of the disadvantages. Best of all, the knockoffs sold for just five hundred creds on the street.

The shopkeeper returned with an expensive-looking wooden box. Opening it, he removed the velvet inlay surface to reveal the boxes of cartridges underneath. He then put the cover back over the boxes and placed Harry's pistol carefully in the matching indentation. Stodgy closed and locked the box and let it go, causing it to hover in midair.

"This pistol case comes integrated with shock absorbents, weather sealing, inertial dampeners, vacuum resistance, anti-corrosion coating, microhover engines, and the works. It will keep your purchase safe from all but the most extreme environments."

"Thank you, Mr. Stodgy. Have a nice day."

The pirates turned to leave, but Stodgy held up a hand. "Wait. Before you go, I would like to pass on one more story to you, youngster."

With a raised eyebrow, Harry turned to listen.

"I have always believed that the weapon chooses their wielder rather than the other way around. Keep in mind that this particular variant, the EET-55/h11p, had been commissioned specifically in mind for a great Martian general."

Stodgy made some sort of sign over his heart with his fingers. "He was a terrible, but great man, who achieved both disastrous and miraculous results in his leadership. It was _his_ pistol that fired a round through the brain of an imprisoned Terran officer. That single act ignited one of the most significant massacres of prisoners of war in the Golden Age of Space. This particular specimen is not that pistol, but the Martians produced it from the original assembly line using metals mined from the same deposits. This model is the twin of that great general's sidearm. Treat it well, and keep it safe."

Harry listened quietly, and then flashed a quick smile.

"Cool story, mister." And with that, the wizard trailed towards the exit. His puzzled companion followed dutifully in his wake.

The door closed with a silent click, leaving the proprietor alone in with his prized collection.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	7. I: Hit Job - Repost

April 3, 2011  
Repost: November 7, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** I received one review accusing me of 'whoring' for reviews. Too bad it's an anonymous one. In some sense, this is true, but this implies bad intentions, so you have to understand my perspective. I removed my story back in July out of a legitimate reason for being banned. At least one author whom I knew personally already had that happened to him. By preventively removing my story, I avoided the same fate, losing one story instead of an entire account. Was it painful? Yes. Do I regret it? No. I did what I thought was right and if I was in that situation again I would do the same thing because I am risk averse in nature.

The reason why I am particular to reviews and public interest is that, like many authors, I do not want to write to an empty crowd. If I did not care about my readership at all, I would have never published my work to begin with. But no single author on this site is like that. Everyone wants his work to be read, and preferably by a large crowd. It is a consideration of efficiency and allocation of time. Will I devote my limited resources in continuing a story that is not well read and receives few reviews, or will I turn my attention instead to another story with much higher public interest? This is the cold arithmetic that partially determines which stories I prioritize above others. The other major factor is of course my own personal interest and motivation. Currently, I am very much interested in continuing this fic, but if only a fraction of my original readership is still interested then there's simply no point.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Hit Job_

* * *

Science in this day and age had long lost its sexy, innovative appeal. Far from early predictions that humanity's rate of technological advancement would grow exponentially, the reality was much less glamorous. Progress had stagnated to a crawl. All but the most elusive theoretical fundamentals have been discovered or confirmed. Refinements in data usually didn't lead to new ways of thinking. The focus lay on finding new applications of existing technology in order to make the most out of humanity's existing tech base.

The last great civilization-changing technology was the advent of the hover module, paving the way for artificial gravity, affordable levitation and inertial dampening. Corporations could not only levitate cargo beyond the gravity wells of planets, but also design spaceships and strike craft that were able to accelerate faster without squashing their occupants.

One would think that the boom in space exploration yielded many exotic insights. The truth was far less glamorous. Nothing earth-shatteringly different had been found so far on other planets that might have led to radical new inventions. People still used the same kind of engine thrusters, the same kind of weaponry, and the same kind of space ships. Incremental change was the norm. Great amounts of man-hours and computational energy only resulted in marginally improved designs that performed only a few percentage points better.

The former science team under Professor Zhang was quite aware of this current state when they chose to pursue a science degree. Studying science relegated them to a life of boring lab work, observing boring phenomena, writing boring reports and explaining yourself to a crowd of uninterested fellow academics.

But getting (magically!) ensnared into the service of some perverted madman and being forced to join his hard-line murdering pirate crew was a little _too_ much excitement.

Science was slow. Science was methodical. Science was a logical progression of ideas upon existing ideas.

With piracy, you just raped and pillaged your way through the universe until sheer dumb luck spelled the end of your life.

Felicity did not wish to die. Neither did her two former interns. Hernandez, Gabriel and herself used to be part of the same working group. They had been working aboard the _Helical Visage _to study particle pulse dispersion under extreme gravity conditions. They were supposed to drop a volley of self-contained experimental chambers at Jupiter's gravity well and record the signals the automated equipment would beam back to the science vessel. If her hypotheses regarding dispersion under such strong distorting effects were correct, she would have earned enough accolades to advance her standing in the academic world to a respectable level.

Instead, Harry reduced her to a simple turret engineer aboard the _Eviscerator_. Goodbye doctorate, goodbye research funds.

"Jeez, are we even going in the right way?" The blonde girl vented, glaring uselessly at her outdated map. There was supposed to be a weapon mall at this location. All she could see were rows and rows of brothels. She turned to her colleagues for help, only to notice their attention hovering to the aforementioned establishments.

She rolled her eyes. "Get your heads out of the gutter. We're on a schedule here, boys."

"Aw Felly." Hernandez said as he grinned rather cheekily, ruffling his rough goatee. "Can't we take a peek? You might find it _interesting_."

"You said it man." Gabriel added as he bumped his elbow against Hernandez. "Maybe we can practice the whole 'rape and pillage' thing first."

Unimpressed, Felicity turned and hastily stormed away from the dodgy street. The two young men strained to catch up with her.

"Did we say something wrong?"

"Beats me, Gabe."

After asking a friendly looking bystander (and not getting mugged or anything in return), Felicity finally tracked down the weapon mall. The three Evies entered the large facility and came face to face with a mountain of armaments.

To describe the large hall as a shopping mall would be stretching it. The place was nothing more than a dingy hangar filled with loads of black market agents selling everything from personal firearms to battlecruiser-grade torpedo launchers. The noise and the cigarette smoke already hit their senses this close to the entrance. The former Solardyne engineer had no idea that pirates conducted so much trade going on this outback pirate station. Everywhere Felicity could see, confident captains and crewmen were browsing the wares, inspecting their conditions and posing detailed questions to the grizzled vendors. The weapons mall operated more in the vein of a bazaar than a typical consumer shopping mall.

"Pulse turrets for fifty thousand! Get your Class V and VI turrets for your lovely corvette! Only fifty thousand for a new one, or half price for second-hand units!"

"Heya." Felicity greeted the Arabic looking man. "Watcha got for Class VI's?"

"Oh? What's the occasion?"

"We need to replace a faulty one on the _Eviscerator _that had been rusting internally for years. Gosh, the idiots. The hillbilly crew who manned the posts didn't even recognize the problem until we came along, and by then we couldn't salvage the mount."

"Hmmm.. the _Eviscerator_…" The shawled man turned to check the name on the port listings. "Ah I see, a mobile carrier, quite rare in these parts. Not much pickings for such a big bird around here. Well, in any case, I got several good choices. What're your specifications?"

"Hmmm.. Gabriel, you got the list?"

"Yeah." The man withdrew a transsheet from his pocket and read the items aloud. "Class VI pulse turret, double-barreled, 0.1 second cycle time, minimum 200 burst capacitor, 360 degree rotational freedom, 175+ degree inclination, gamma mount, Fourth Generation or later."

The vendor nodded and led his three customers to one of the car-sized turrets resting in the back of his spacious shop. "I got this double-barreled Holarion here that meets your requirements. She only saw a few years of service before the owner dismantled the entire ship. I managed to come across it when I was out trawling the junk yards. Its barrels are still unwarped and well within tolerance and there are barely any signs of wear on its other components. You can't find a better deal than this little baby. Can swat the flies right out of space yes you can with this sweet package. Holarion Corp only makes the best, and this is a fine genuine factory copy here."

"What're you asking for it?"

"Sixty grand."

The group spent half an hour inspecting the components, measuring any deviations or signs of wear while Felicity continued to contest the price with the stubborn vendor. He eventually agreed to part with the turret for forty-five thousand credits, but considering the state of the pulse turret, the deal was a good one, all things considered. Felicity signed the purchase agreement and credit transfer authorizations before arranging transportation back to the _Eviscerator_. Since shipping was quite a spotty service on a lawless station, these matters were usually handled immediately on location. The vendor helpfully contacted a shipping agent.

A young teenager barely out of his teens came up to them and bowed swiftly. "Chaf's Deliveries at your service. What do we need to haul for you, missie?"

"That turret over there." Hernandez thumbed behind him. "Immediately, if possible."

"Sure." The boy chewed his supergum thoughtfully as he regarded the naval turret with practiced ease. "We got a hauler available that can truck up to twenty tons, but it'll cost a small penny. Two-'undred-'n-fifty, no less."

"Alright, but this hauler better be rated to handle this load." Hernandez shook the kid's hand. "Bring it back to the hold of the _Eviscerator. _It's the mobile carrier docked at the L-arm."

At the mention of the ship, the kid suddenly stopped his incessant chewing and widened his eyes. "The Evie? No way man. No deal guys. I'm getting outta here!"

"What's the matter, kid?" The turret operator closed in on the backing teenager, who suddenly didn't look very comfortable in their midst. "Is there something we need to know?"

"Jeez, you don't know? I mean, you seriously don't know what kind of shit you guys are in?" The boy babbled on as he started to make his escape again. "Well, good luck with your soon-to-be-dead captain! I wouldn't want to be you guys when those bastards take over your little ship! Sayonara!"

The recently minted pirates just stared at each other in dumb incomprehension. "Uh.. what was that all about?"

"Dunno, but sounds like someone's gunning for the ship." Hernandez guessed, and turned to the turret vendor. "You heard anything like that 'round here?"

The man shook his head and tried not to be seen with the three people he had just sold a product to. "Don't want any trouble, shoo, go away, go away! Take your turret and leave me out of your troubles!"

"Geez, friendly service 'round here. How are we supposed to haul this thing all the way back to the Evie?"

"You idiot." Felicity knocked her fist against Hernandez' chest. "Didn't you get what the shipping guy said? Someone's targeting the wizard kid. The entire ship might get taken over!"

"So what?" Gabriel shrugged. "If he dies, we'll be free from his curse."

The girl so wanted to strangle the idiots. "Have you ever thought what would happen to us, genius? Do you think we can just go find a new place to work in the middle of a _pirate_ base? We're no killers! There's no passage out for us! I'd probably end up in some whorehouse while you two get pressed in a violent pirate crew. Do you really think you'll end up better without Harry?"

"Are you out of your mind, Felly?" Hernandez ripped up his sleeve and bared the black curse mark to his friends. "Don't you hate carrying this brand? Don't you hate how it burns whenever you think of escape? Now that we've finally got a chance to escape that fucking bastard, you're actually thinking of helping that filthy scum?"

Shaking her head, the girl gave up on them. Felicity turned away from her two friends. "I'm not wasting any more words with you dickheads. If you don't want to help, fine, but I'm not going to stand here like an idiot. I'm going to return to the ship and warn the crew. Unlike you guys, I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a tyrant _worse_ than Harry. He's not the scary monster you think he is. There are far worse pirates to serve under than a kid with a superiority complex."

The two men stood gaping as they watched Felicity leave the weapons mall. While they desperately wanted to be rid of Captain Harry's oppressive grip, Felicity's argument did start to make more sense now that they crunched their brains on them. She was right, there were far worse captains out there who wouldn't hesitate to mistreat their crew over any imagined slight.

"I think we made a mistake."

"Sure did."

"So whatta we gonna do?"

Gabriel let out a clueless sound as he leaned against their turret. "Well at least Felly's warning the Evies. Maybe we can go find the captain and help him out."

"With what, our bare fists? We ain't got any guns. You wanna go help the captain unarmed to do what? Take a bullet for him? Throwing rocks at his attackers? That's whacking crazy, y'know that? Besides, Captain Kid's got his wavie stick, so how much is he at risk?"

"But what if his attackers come up with a Class IV weapon, Hernandez? Do you think he can withstand that much punishment?"

"Beats me. Maybe he can wave his kickass stick and turn the weapon into a bunny."

"Most space fighters can't even withstand more than a handful of Class IV hits. How will Harry be able to survive the onslaught?" Gabriel remarked as he rapped his fingers against the control panel of their newly bought weapon mount. "You know what I think? I think Captain Harry's going to get himself all blown up if he's up against that much firepower."

They both sat on the circular indentation of the upright pulse turret, having nothing else to do. Both were lost in thought as they thought about their short lives aboard the _Eviscerator_ and how that may end in the next few hours.

"You know, if we can hook some sort of power train and a pair of wheels on this baby, we _could_ lend a hand…"

* * *

Hit jobs were fairly uncommon on Vlessing Base, but not too rare. Most of the pirates and mercenaries frequenting the station had accumulated plenty of enemies in their career. Was it any surprise that some of them would seek them out and exact their revenge? Still, the potential victims couldn't do much to prevent the attempts, so they shrugged the risk and continued on their way. The most successful pirates usually counted on their guards, but a small-time corvette captain didn't deign that much respect. If one were to go out on the streets, well, they just prayed that they shot the bastard first.

Any decent pirate worth his salt could easily handle a distraught father. Against two hired men, well, with luck the pirate would survive long enough to call for his mates. But twenty seasoned pirates, five of them suited up in Class I Boarding Armor? That might prove a little difficult.

The ambush started with a bang. A Class III kinetic round brutally impacted Harry's magical shield, breaking it apart but accomplishing little else. The wizard had been completely oblivious to the threat as he crossed the street.

Vinson's crew may not be the smartest people alive, they knew better than to take stupid chances. Despite their tendency to underestimate their target, they still stuck to their old habits and conducted the hit job professionally. They scoped their target, shadowed him to discover his vulnerabilities, prepared a killing ground and positioned themselves at optimal angles of fire.

Another heavy alloy bullet destroyed the remaining high-powered charms that Harry had hastily cast over himself.

A third projectile pierced Harry's dragonhide armor. The ancient resilient material held out for a few split nanoseconds but even its ancient strength couldn't withstand the force behind the bullet.

Though much of its lethal potency bled off, the bullet still possessed plenty of punch to pass through Harry's right shoulder.

The entry and exit wounds exploded into a great red mess that splattered the walkways around the victim. Screams erupted all around them as frightened pedestrians hysterically fled the violent ambush.

"Master Harry!" Claris called as she caught Harry's paralyzed body as it fell. _Mercury, we're caught right out in the open!' _The lieutenant quickly brought up her pistol while she ordered their hoverpad to bug out.

Sadly, another kinetic round hit the power module of the pad, disabling the entire device and dumping both its occupants unceremoniously to the ground.

"Snap out of it, Harry! We have to find cover!"

Fire started to pour out from every direction. The rounds were mostly kinetic, leaving Claris unable to determine their angles. A few self-homing bullets had hit Claris dangerously close to her leg – only the overheated engine module of the hoverpad saved her from turning cripple.

"Harry!"

As the ambush turned more intense, she realized that Harry was too wounded to turn the battle around. She sent a neural command through her command ring that activated a ship-wide alarm on the _Eviscerator_. This would bring every crewman at attention. Then she activated the emergency regimen for her dress. Miniature particles weaved and morphed her gorgeous red dress into a more substantial and protective weave. Her modified vacsuit wouldn't offer the same amount of protection that combat armor could provide, but it at least she gained some protection from blunt or grazing attacks.

Meanwhile, Harry's wounds rapidly clotted shut. His breath grew more regular and his eyes were regaining their regular sheen. Instincts honed from dueling countless capricious wizards had refined his body's healing capacity to a supernatural degree. Even now, his injuries forced his conditioned body to heal his wounds by drawing from his internal magic. The amount of magic drawn was quite substantial, but it couldn't be helped. The cursed wizard could deal with the consequences later.

"Come on, Harry, hurry!"

They crawled and stumbled towards the nearest shelter. However, the shopkeeper frantically rolled down the barricades, blocking his entrance and display windows. All the other shopkeepers followed his lead, leaving no openings for the pair to take shelter in. They kept to the walls and hurried towards the nearest alleyway.

A row of spacers stood ready and waiting for them behind a pile of hastily thrown debris. Pulse lasers and rocketed bullets flew towards their two victims with vicious intensity. Harry's weakened redirection charm barely saved their lives.

The two rolled back out the alleyway. _'We'll die if we continue to run aimlessly!'_ Harry grabbed hold of Claris and tried to apparate in a desperate attempt to escape the trap.

The art of apparition was notoriously delicate. The wizard had to have a clear picture of his destination in mind. Then he had to hold it steadily at the forefront of his mind as he willed his magical energies to feed his desire to be at that location. Side-along apparition was exponentially more dangerous, not just because of the increase in mass and volume, but also due to the inherent difficulty of picturing the other person in the desired picture. Just about anything could go wrong.

Unfortunately for Harry, his grievous shoulder wound and his panicked state of mind left him unable to properly jump back to the _Eviscerator_. They disappeared from the street–

–and popped out only one block ahead. They dropped in a tumble of body parts in another alleyway.

At least they hadn't left any limbs behind. After asserting that they were as whole as they could be, Harry stumbled back to his feet. He dragged Claris up to her feet and went towards a warehouse-like structure. Claris saw what he intended and redirected him towards a locked maintenance door. Using her Plasma Pistol, she melted the lock into to ruin and kicked the damaged door open.

"Looks like we got out of the killing zone." Claris whispered as she checked if there were any ambushers lying in wait inside. "Let's go inside. We can't get back to the _Eviscerator _with the shape you're in."

They shuffled into the dark interior and hid themselves in the throng of massive color-coded shelves. The warehouse stored a variety of ship construction materials. The shelves held engine parts, bulkhead plating, tubes, and many other components. As they went past a stack of fighter armaments, Harry stopped.

"Stop here. This location has what I need. Cover my back while I work."

"Yes master."

Claris positioned herself away from the captain and held her pistol ready to shoot at any approaching threat. Meanwhile, the injured wizard opened one of his shrunken trunks and retrieved a small vial of glowing blue liquid. The vial was one of five emergency flesh-knitting potions he still had available. If the Wizarding World had really disappeared as he hoped, then this potion was irreplaceable.

He drank down the priceless fluid in a single gulp.

Already he could feel its violent pain-wracking effects working to rejuvenate his muscles. Harry fought the strain in order to maintain control.

The worst of it eventually passed. The wizard picked up the still-floating pistol case and threw it against the stack of Class IV pulse laser mounts resting on the shelves. The box clanked against the metal surfaces but quickly came to rest once it managed to upright itself. The boy had already turned his attention away and retrieved a few select ingredients from his diminishing store of reagents.

For blood-draining properties, a pouch of vampire dust.

For endurance and heat-absorption, an ancient chunk of mammoth tusk.

And as fuel for the transformation, a flask of pixie wings.

But Harry was not done. As the final ingredient, Harry withdrew a small box that contained one of his most foul possessions, something he kept secret even to his closest friends. The tiny box contained a single finger bone he filched out of Voldemort's decaying corpse. He threw the dark artifact up along with the rest of his reagents and made a cut in his finger to draw up a ritual circle on the dusty metal floor. He carefully weaved a simple pattern, and then supplemented the work with a handful of runes and ancient power words. If he had more time, he would have been able to employ a more powerful circle, but with a horde of assassins hounding for his life he couldn't risk the delay. With a final touch, he enacted his spell.

The drying runes glowed in power as Harry leaked out parts of his magic. The curses that fed off his body latched onto the stream unseen and exacted their own share of the expulsion, forcing Harry to pump out more power in order to compensate the loss. Despite the difficulty, he managed to pour enough energy into the runes that they stopped requiring his power to sustain the reaction. Relaxing, Harry invoked an incantation that sent a powerful pulse towards the pile of weapons and reagents, beginning the transformation.

The warehouse doors slammed open. Their pursuers have managed to track them down. But they were too far away to interrupt the spell.

A shrieking noise reverberated throughout the warehouse as the pulse mounts along with the gun box, revolver and ammunition cases started to disassemble. Whole chunks split off into hundreds of individual pieces as wires, chips and bolts separated. Harry held out the picture of his desired end product in mind and waved his hand again. Fueled by the energy of the rapidly diminishing supply of pixie wings, the mass of components weaved and whirred around as they rearranged themselves around the disassembled pieces of the revolver. The vampire dust coated itself inside the cylinders of the chamber, while the mammoth tusk split in three, embedding two of the pieces between the folds of the grip and the coils of the barrel. A remaining chink of the bone wrapped around the trigger of the gun.

Footsteps were closing in. Claris shot at a passing shadow, earning a blood-curling cry in return.

The single bone of Voldemort's finger reformed itself as the cock, replacing the mundane metal hammer of the original revolver.

When all the components settled into place, Harry pumped out another string of energy that burned up the remaining pixie wings to pay for the reassembly process. The parts and components all locked together as the cloud rapidly narrowed into a recognizable shape. Energies streamed alongside it, hardening the bonds and letting the magical ingredients take effect.

Return fire splattered their position. Harry's redirection charm managed to shield them both, but it wouldn't last much longer.

The magical revolver was finished.

The product of Harry's artificing was the ultimate fusion of magic and technology. Outwardly, it looked much the same, only slightly more massive. Its dull metallic surface had taken on a Gryffindor red coating. Minute carvings of runes and other ancient symbols rested idly along the barrel and grip, ready to activate once the weapon started to discharge. Part of its grip had been replaced by wood, undoubtedly ripped from the gun box. The internal changes weren't visible, but the wizard could already taste the power the artifact hummed out as it awaited its new master. The boy reached out with his hand and let the floating handgun fall into his palm.

A personal bond formed between the weapon and its wielder. Harry grinned as he felt his power coursing through the gun. The cost was substantial. He had to give up a substantial amount of reagents and magical energy to facilitate the process, and he couldn't have done it without the brute-force power of his Elder Wand, but this splendid piece of craftsmanship was definitely worth the price.

"I grant you life.. so that you may take it in my name."

Cocking the Dark Lord's finger bone, he aimed the hefty barrel in the direction of the incoming fire and pulled the mammoth tusk trigger.

The very first action the heavy pistol took was not to fire its payload. Instead, its runes glowed to an ominous shade of blue. The carvings exerted a pull over its environment. This force drew the blood spilled from nearby corpses towards the gun and siphoned the lifeblood in its ammunition chamber.

Only then did the gun actually fire.

* * *

"What's that racket!" Chief Vinson called in his comm bud as he and his entourage of armored boarders finally entered the warehouse after his scouts had gone in first. His Class II slug thrower rested tersely in his hands as Vinson swept the darkened room with his infrared visor. The fading footsteps from the others still radiated a little heat.

The comm crackled in his ear. "We need reinforcements! The stupid kid managed to get his hands on a whacky pistol! They're both tearing us apart!"

"Do I sound like I fuckin' care?" Vinson spat back. "It's just a kid and a skank. Just storm their cover and be done with it."

More fire reverberated in the warehouse. A second loud discharge boomed.

"Ray, you still with us? Ray?"

Vinson slowed when he didn't receive any response. Great. The whole plan was supposed to be a cakewalk. He had done everything right. They surrounded the entire street. They occupied the high ground. Their sniper had a clear field of fire. Heck, the first bullet should have knocked the kid out right then and there.

Somehow, that blasted kid used some sort of gadget to turn him and his girlfriend invisible. His men finally managed to spot the pair a hundred meters away. All their fortified positions had been rendered useless as a result. They had to abandon their high ground and go after the fucking kid on foot. They couldn't let him could slip away and return with an army of his own. All thoughts of ambushes and simultaneous assaults had been tossed from their plan. The chief had no choice but to herd his men after their targets in a trickle.

"..Vince?"

The chief halted and held his head over his comm helmet. "Ray? You still good yet? What the hell is going on?"

"It's a fracking shitstorm, chief! It's goddamn fucking Mercury all over here! The bitch is bad enough with her plasma gun, but the boy is something else! The kid's got this huge-whack gun and he's spewing out some sort of fire pellet that splashes the flame all around us and we can't even get it to stuff them out and it's fucking horrible and jeezus just whack man it burns right through the suits and down to the bone until the bone itself blacks out like coal and the smell the horrible stink goddamn vomit laden helmet I had to take it off and—"

"Calm the fuck down, Ray! Now tell me why that kid ain't dead yet."

"We're trying, chief, but the kid's got some sort of interference shield that whacks all we throw at him out of the way. Dunno man, Class II at least, and we ain't got nothing much 'sides a handful of pulse rifles and a few slug throwers. We could really use some nEMP here."

An entire portion of the warehouse just went up in flames at that moment. Vinson felt the wave of heat roll over his armor.

"Ray? Ray? You still there buddy?"

"…"

"Fucking great." The man cocked his shotgun. A single under-slung machete bayonet retracted from the muzzle. "Horser, ready your nEMP canisters. Dick, set your pulse spitter to suppression mode. The rest, get your monoblades out and prepare to gut that sunovabitch."

The six remaining troops in combat armor marched ever-closer towards the source of the illumination. The flames continued to burn down expensive components despite the efforts of the warehouse's water sprinklers. When they finally neared the source of the disturbance, they encountered the first remains of their comrades. Vince knew these men well when they were still alive. Now, they were only good for fertilizer. Nothing was left of their flesh and clothes. Only their bones and the melted remains of their guns marked their passing.

These were good men. Solid men. Men Vinson knew, men he worked with all his life. They had terrorizing the Jupiter Outback together for many years.

Now they were dead. Burned by some kid with an oversized flame spitter. Vinson roared his grief and anger from his constricted throat.

"Forget about his stupid command ring!" The Chief savaged through his comm channel. "I want that kid DEAD. Kill him with anything you got. Grenades, boom tubes, bring out whatever dirty trick you have. We owe it to our mates."

The men went after the hot trails of their prey with steeled determination. They rounded the corner and came almost face to face with their two hated targets.

"Let'r rip!"

Pulses of particle bolts streamed forward in an incredibly dense spray, only to bend away at the last moment before impact. Vinson shot a blast of heated shrapnel from his boomstick, which dispersed in the same manner of the fire gone before. The woman that accompanied the kid shot back globs of bluish plasma on the floor before them, slowing them down and forcing them to go around the puddles of cooling death.

Then, the boy himself fired from his big-ass revolver. A loud boom erupted from its barrel as a bright lance of orange-red flame landed in their midst that engulfed one of their numbers completely. The impact sprayed out other bits of highly corrosive flame, forcing Vinson and the rest to sidestep. The chief looked back at Gerard's body. His armor had been melted into a horrific chunk of slag. The suit probably cooked him alive.

This has gone long enough.

"Horser, fire the boom tube!"

The boarder hooked his pulse rifle under his shoulder and shoved a blue cylinder onto the underbarrel. He then brought the weapon up and took his aim. He adjusted his angle in order to take the distance and the parabolic arc into account. He then launched the nEMP grenade. At the same time, Vinson held his shotgun up to his eye and tracked the slow-moving projectile. When the grenade was about to bounce off the interference shield, he let his shotgun shoot another volley of shrapnel.

The tiny metal pellets hit the shell, detonating the grenade just before it encountered the redirection charm. Its electric blast tore through the magical barrier and Harry's other protections like a scissor. The boy visibly arced in pain as the electric charge ran through his body. But that was not the extent of the damage. Vinson's volley followed right after the electric wave front, pelting his two targets with dozens of projectiles.

Only the inherent protection afforded by Harry's dragonskin armor prevented the pellets from perforating Harry's skin. The impacts transferred a punishing amount of kinetic energy, forming many bruises, but he didn't suffer further damage.

Claris was worse off. Her emergency vacsuit afforded little in the way of battle protection. A handful of pellets embedded themselves into her flesh, crippling her muscles and shocking her into paralysis. The only reason the projectiles didn't run her through was due to Harry's shields.

Swearing loudly, Harry let loose another Fiendfyre blast with his revolver. The superheated spray landed before his pursuers' feet, blocking their way again. Having bought some time, the boy hauled his critically injured subordinate over his shoulders and limped towards the exit of the warehouse. He grabbed hold of Claris' plasma pistol to burn through the locks, then barged his shoulder through the weakened door. They both disappeared back out into the streets.

"We got 'em on the run!" Vinson hollered in his comm, passing the coordinates to the others who were still arriving from the most distant positions. "Go around the back and hammer them! They're both hit bad. Just one more push!"

The armored boarders, finally managing to go around the flames that blocked the most direct way forward, went through the same door that Harry and Claris passed through. The light from the overcast ceiling dome temporarily blinded their sensitive visors. It took a few seconds for their equipment to adjust.

The open streets were empty. Nothing but more warehouses dotted this section. The dockworkers and automated robots had already cleared the area. Nothing moved. Everything should have been still except for their half-dead targets.

There was only one thing wrong with this picture. An open truckbed stood right in front of Vinson's men. The bed supported an upright Class VI pulse turret. Its sleek dual barrels lowered from its vertical inclination in order to face the new arrivals. A strong humming vibration whined from the turret's capacitors, growing ever higher in pitch.

A pair of men waved from a control panel set nearby. "_Captain Kid sends his regards!_"

The Holarion Suppressive Pulse Platform launched a stream of pulse bolts. It drew its prodigious power from the truck's internal reactor. If the turret mount had been hooked up to a proper power supply, the dual barrels might have been capable of unleashing its full Class VI fury. As it was, the quarter-powered pulses were barely below the legal threshold that would ordinarily draw the station's enforcers.

That left Gabriel and Hernandez free to spray their deadly particles with abandon. The bolts tore through the flimsy walls of the warehouse and wrought havoc to the valuable equipment inside. The wildly diverging pulses blew containers of exotic gasses, scorched pieces of hull armor and caused flammable materials to go up in smoke. Maintenance robots went haywire trying to limit the damage and were quickly crushed by falling shelves. Water sprinklers and heavier fire suppression technologies fought hard to extinguish the raging torrent, but their efforts were in vain. Millions of credits worth of delicate equipment melted into slag or blew up into pieces.

As for the five remaining aggressors? They were just unfortunate enough to be in the way.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	8. I: Retaliation - Repost

April 4, 2011  
Repost: November 7, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Retaliation_

* * *

If there was one emotion that defined Harry's existence, it was anger. From the start of his life, anger led to the death of his parents. Anger was the only emotion the Dursleys had for him. Anger was what he had to endure from Voldemort and his minions. Even after his victory, the Wizarding World still didn't leave him alone. The entire world grew angry with him again, and the boy-who-won just couldn't take it anymore.

So he grew angry himself. He embraced his hatred that had simmered beneath his consciousness for ages and let himself become the Boy-Who-Became.

The wizard had already borne the world on his shoulders once. Like Atlas, Harry endured. Like Prometheus, Harry evolved. And like Kronos, Harry eventually cut his progenitor's very balls. But as Zeus eventually defeated Kronos, the remnants of the Wizarding World eventually managed to imprison the Boy-Who-Lost. The crystal cage was his tomb, and the dark of space became his world.

Perhaps they thought Harry would cool down. They were wrong. They accomplished the opposite of what they intended. The Boy-Who-Left let his anger boil continuously without pause.

And boy, did he have a beef against the entire world.

Now, safe inside the truck racing back towards the ship, Harry could only watch helplessly as Doctor Selner tried to stem the wounds that his Second had incurred in the ambush. The doctor worked methodically and professionally. All her animosity towards Harry had been set aside as she focused on her primary virtue: saving lives. The mobile surgery kit she brought along as an afterthought helped a little, but it wouldn't pull the patient through. Whether Claris would survive at the end of the day, no one could answer.

"The checkpoint is just up ahead." Zhang called behind the wheel. Janis was riding shotgun, her beam rifle ready for any obstacles that would get in their way. Cleveland assisted Selner as best he could with his rudimentary first aid knowledge. At the very back of the truck rested the big anti-fighter turret that had torn the ambushers apart. Gabriel and Hernandez had miraculously jury-rigged the truck's power generator to the turret in time to help. Now that the vehicle needed the power generator to move, the turret had been powered down and would stay that way as long as they were on the move.

"How come there's only you lot that came to my aid?" Harry asked as leaned against the side of the truck bed. "I thought Claris sent a distress signal to all of the crew."

Cleveland didn't mince words. "You ain't got the crew's loyalty, sir. Only us bunch came because we thought we'd have it better under you than some other rat."

In other words, his crew abandoned him. The betrayal fueled his anger. While he understood their selfish motives, he didn't have a single ounce of sympathy for the dregs. It was time to prove that he was their Master and their Owner. The Oath of Submission he laid down on his crew entailed them to be nothing more than his glorified house elves. Disobedience would not be tolerated.

Thus, with a small sliver of magical dispersion, he invoked his first Power Word. "_**Dobby!**_"

Selner, Zhang and the others on the truck felt the pressure wave, but shrugged it off. They were the only ones to answer his calls to arms, and his spell left them out.

Stacy's mark burned briefly, but settled down as the intelligent spirit determined she had indeed given aid by running back to the ship to warn her colleagues.

The rest of the Evies on the ship or on shore had no such excuse. Harry's call activated their Marks, causing them to collapse in burning agony. The spike quickly subsided, but the enduring pain still ruptured in their veins. A lingering pull washed over their brains that disrupted their conscious patterns. The pull exerted only one overriding directive: obey Harry's summons.

Drunken spacers dropped their mugs and walked out the bars. Those who had been visiting the brothels withdrew their cocks and left their girls unsatisfied. Others around the base and on the ship ceased their normal activities and converged towards the _Eviscerator_'s spacious hanger where they were first met Harry.

There, they waited, unable to let their minds wander due to the compulsion placed over their freedom of thought.

The hatch of the ship retracted downwards to admit Harry's truck. As Selner directed a group of stretcher-bearers to haul off Claris' body, the disobedient spacers were met with the consequences of their defiance.

Only when Harry exited the truck and approached the lines of crewmen did the hold finally lift. Most of the victims looked puzzled at each other. They only retained a few vague recollections from their temporary possession.

Displeased, Harry pulled at their chains, forcing them to feel a portion of his wrath through their nerves. For a few seconds, every disobeying spacer experienced his first taste of a _Crucio._

"Now that I have your attention, please listen up and _shut the fuck up_."

He put his wand back in his wrist holster and retrieved his new revolver. The spacers might not understand the threat of his wand could pose, but a gun would be as clear as day. Harry held his pistol tightly as he paced back and forth.

"It seems that you didn't get my message. What is it to being my vassal that repels you so much? Aren't you interested in the rewards that I can offer? Don't you think that I have your best interest in mind? I made it abundantly clear that I am willing to part with a few carrots. It seems now that I must also show my willingness to use the stick. I wouldn't have had to resort to these measures if you didn't ignore my orders and acted against my well-being."

He approached one of the environmental techs and pushed the barrel of his revolver against the man's skull. The tech shivered hysterically as he willed his legs to run away, only to fail as his limbs failed to break the compulsion that kept him in place.

"Let me tell you a story. Thousands of years ago, a great civilization emerged on Earth. From just a handful of tribes, their people forged a powerful republic that later turned into an empire. Its legions were many and their prowess in battle was renowned throughout the known world. But once in a while, a legion fucks up. Did you know what their leaders do to these dishonored soldiers?"

Harry pulled the mammoth bone trigger.

The fiery lance that spat out from his revolver burned right through the unlucky technician's skull. Its intensity was so great that the lance continued on and scorched right through other two crewmen standing behind him.

"The Romans _decimated_ the legion. One in ten lost their lives to serve as penitence for their legion's dishonor. They paid for their cowardice with their lives." Harry stepped back and allowed the bonds on his minions to loosen. The spacers were able to turn their heads to see the result of Harry's brutality.

Putting his revolver back in its holster, the boy finished his speech. "Afterwards, the general would leave the survivors alone, and the losses the legion incurred would be put aside, but not forgotten. I expect that you too will go back to your duties and obey my will without question. If not, well, just consider that you could be the next one in ten. Never forget this day, and never forget that as my vassals, you carry both duties and privileges. Good day."

It would take a long time for the crew to regain their composure and return to their duties. The chastened men and women learned a valuable lesson today. They learned that if they messed up in any way, the kid would have their hides.

The hangar crew knew that lesson best of all. They had the unfortunate job of sweeping up the remains.

* * *

Wrath was the constant companion of anger. Anger was an emotion, a directionless outcry of frustration, a primal reaction to the evolutionary mechanism of fairness.

Wrath was the hammer of righteousness, the vehicle of vengeance and the taker of lives. It represented the ultimate remedy of hate and acted as the most direct instrument of justice.

Wrath drove humanity forward. The inequality inherent in human civilization forced man to pursue higher ambitions. Wrath encouraged men and women to take what is theirs by virtue of might.

Wrath was Harry's second wife. And today, Harry was going to take her out for dinner.

"She's doing fine, boss." Cleveland offered as they both watched the surgery from the other side of the observation screen. Selner had sterilized Claris' injuries and was currently in the process of removing the pellets.

"Wounds like these won't kill. You'll get your girl back in no time."

Despite Cleveland's words, Claris was not 'his girl'. She was, however, a valued servant and part of Harry's nascent inner circle. She was his vassal, and he was her liege lord. When the ambush had been sprung on them, the lieutenant didn't abandon her captain to his fate. Even when it became clear that they were outnumbered, she still attempted to shield him with her body.

Service went both ways. Claris had acted as his shield. Harry would take up her sword.

Turning to his Chief of Security, Harry inquired, "How did your recruiting drive go?"

"I managed to sign up three veterans so far. They can get the blood you asked for."

"Call them in immediately. I have a use for them."

The pirate boarder saluted and left the medical bay. The wizard turned his attention to the other raider in the room, Janis.

"You. Take everyone amongst our crew who can handle a gun and kit them up. Find out who my attackers were and which outfit they were part of. If anyone gives you trouble, just pass it along to me and I'll take care of it. Understood?"

"Y-Yes sir!"

Only Harry remained to observe Selner's work after Janis' departure. He wanted to stay in order to pay his lieutenant the proper respect. A small part of him wondered if Voldemort ever cared if Lucius or Bellatrix had gotten hurt. Did the snake ever care about his inner circle? Harry suspected the Dark Lord couldn't care less. The act of splitting one's soul meant splitting up one's conscience. Perhaps the part of Voldemort that contained his empathy had been stuck in Hufflepuff's Cup and was subsequently destroyed during the Horcrux Hunt. Harry resolved to never follow in the Dark Lord's footsteps in his quest for power.

He didn't need to cheat Death; he had already become its embodiment.

His hand lowered to his hip and grasped the handle of his artificed revolver. Harry had no need to carry a separate holster – the gun, unlike most of his crew, knew who its master was. His thumb fingered the piece of bone that acted as his pistol's priming hammer. The former boy-who-won found it somewhat fitting that he would continue the Dark Lord's legacy of death and destruction with a talisman fashioned from his remains.

"Neither can live while the other survives… eh?"

His digit left Voldemort's bone and rested on the cylindrical bullet holder. A normal revolver would rotate the cylinder to get the next bullet aligned to the barrel. Harry's changes had done away with that, instead relying on whatever blood was at hand as fuel. The bullet chambers adopted a different function now. Harry's thumb flicked the cylinder a notch, aligning the next chamber to the gun barrel.

'_Fire cleanses, but some targets don't deserve to die a clean death.'_

A small chuckle erupted from his throat as his mind drifted off. By now, Dr. Selner had finished removing the shrapnel and let one of the facility's machines dress up the wounds. When the device completed the process, she instructed a pair of hovering medidroids to lift Claris' unconscious body. They put her into a recovery vat that contained a mixture of special nutrients and chemicals that would accelerate her healing process.

When the exhausted doctor left the operation room, she jumped when she suddenly came face to face with her captor. Selner stepped back fearfully, expecting another threat or humiliation.

Smiling sardonically, the wizard removed his hand away from his revolver and relaxed his pose. "Don't be afraid. I'm not looking to get my jollies off at this moment."

The doctor could never relax in Harry's presence, but his words did help to reassure her a little. She let down her guard, and with a weary sigh, Lilliane collapsed on a nearby chair.

"Before you ask, the patient is stable and will make a complete recovery."

"How long?"

"The patient needs a couple of days in the vat to let the wounds close. She'll be capable of functioning in a limited capacity when she leaves the vat. While Claris is remarkably fit, she still needs to enjoy a month of rest before she's fit for physical exertions."

A couple of days were a bit too long for Harry's comfort. He was well aware that he relied rather extensively on Claris' leadership and expertise to keep the _Eviscerator_ running smoothly. Now, without a clear direction and no obvious Third to step in the void (Hargrave's third was Chief Gerchev), the situation might quickly descend into anarchy unless Harry appointed a suitable substitute.

He already had a candidate and would visit him next. But first he wanted to show Dr. Selner his appreciation.

"You have my gratitude doctor. Helping Claris must not have been easy for you."

Her piercing green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I have come to terms with our.. differences of opinion. Though I still find your methods and justifications abhorring, it is futile to sit back and do nothing."

"So you try to introduce whatever good you can into our lives, is that right?"

Lily nodded, not only because she knew that Harry could sense her lies, but also because she wanted to stand up to her convictions. The smile she got in return surprised her a little, and did not help to reassure her lingering concerns. There was no end to the capriciousness and pettiness this monster in sheep's clothing could unleash.

The boy looked as young as Zhang's youngest interns, but his mannerisms and many references to the past all suggested his lifespan was far longer than any natural human went through. Physiology was a function of age. Old people were supposed to be in peace with themselves and ready to meet their end. They were not supposed to stay on living long after their natural lifespan like Harry. Selner suspected that the ancient wizard probably grew a little insane because his mental development just didn't know what to do with Harry's perpetual youth. His unhinged hormonal balance must have done much to warp his perspective.

The wizard pulled out a small box from the folds of his ancient coat, and through some unknown means, expanded the size of the object so his hand could go through. He rummaged inside for a moment before pulling out a very old and dusty vial of glowing blue liquid. Selner instinctively backed away. One of her many lessons warned her that most glowing matter was _radioactive_.

"This is not a harmful substance." He set the vial down on the coffee table. "I once claimed that I rewarded loyalty and obedience. You have certainly shown both. Perhaps not for the reasons I would like, but nevertheless your efforts helped saved lives. Therefore, in light of your service, I grant you this one single boon."

Harry tapped the potion. "The vial contains a magical substance brewed from the ancient art of Potions Making. This potion has powerful flesh-weaving capabilities when ingested fully. It can knit together cleaved flesh and restore severed tendons in a remarkable span of time. I give this rare specimen to you, to do as you wish. Treasure it, examine it, experiment with it, I don't really care. However, in order to overcome your doubts, I do have one request: try using a small portion on Claris. A tiny pinch will not heal her fully, but it will speed up her recovery time considerably."

The doctor continued to stare at the glowing vial as if it contained a deadly plague. Despite Harry's claims, she still didn't quite believe him. All the magic she had seen from Harry so far either killed or tortured. It was hard to believe that the boy could also accomplish the opposite.

Harry left the medical bay to attend to other matters.

Later on, when he checked the security cameras, the vial had disappeared.

* * *

Professor Zhang was smart. He knew he was smart and had the tests to prove it. In a society that numbered a hundred billion individuals, one had to be pretty darn smart to achieve the title of associate professor. There were still far too little universities and far too many postdocs to pick and choose from. Only by being smarter, savvier and luckier than the rest was Zhang able to hold onto his title. In fact, he held his professorship for fourteen straight years at the West-Jovian University of Technology. It was an immense achievement that earned him much respect, even if the pay wasn't all that great compared to the prevailing rates in the corporate world.

Still, with so much competition and so much backstabbing in the academic world, a professor didn't just have to be smart to hang on to his tenure. The stereotype that academics were all socially inept nerds was very much false. In truth, the most successful scientists were actually the most sociable people in their IQ range. You needed to be politically and emotionally adept to maneuver your way around the hectic halls of academic rivalry. Everyone who mattered played the same game. Participants frequently formed alliances and broke them off just as fast at the most convenient opportunities. You had to cultivate lifelong friends, only to exploit their generosity ruthlessly when they ceased to provide any benefit. Everyone played the game, and the longer you were in it, the higher the chance of encountering skillful opponents.

That Zhang held out for fourteen years was a notable accomplishment indeed. But the fact that he had lost was something that he couldn't wrap his mind around. His defeat came so unexpected that he simply couldn't accept his demise. His rivals at West-Jove U. didn't simply manage tried to kick him from his professorship – they actually wanted him to get killed by pirates. Only through an extraordinary stroke of luck did he survive the roundabout assassination. He didn't know whether his survival counted as a victory or loss, but what mattered most was that he was in a position to strike back.

Oh, he wouldn't go in guns blazing. Why the hurry? While the flames of wrath were powerful companions, he was not accustomed to such a direct style of retaliation. Patience marked his tenure. He held his professorship for fourteen years and conducted multiple studies that took many years to bear fruit. His revenge was simply another project in his book. Vengeance was a dish best served cold.

At the moment though, he had to deal with a different hot potato.

"You want me to do _what?_"

The emerald eyes of his superior gazed unemotionally at his own. "It is just like I said. I want you to captain the ship in Claris' absence. Become the next officer in the chain of command, if you will."

The exasperated professor felt ill at ease at the suggestion. He tried to explain his perspective as meticulously as he could. "I don't know how they viewed professors in your world, but in this age, we are nothing more than people with a little more brains than average that happen to accumulate extensive knowledge on _one_ _narrow_ _subject_. For me, that is materials science, _not_ captaining warships. I do not even possess an inch of the vast body of knowledge that is required to lead a space vessel. I don't understand the underlying mechanisms that keep a starship running and I can't issue the proper orders to make the vessel do what I want. If you don't mind me saying so, you are better off picking one of the other more seasoned pirate crew. Cleveland seems to be an alright fellow."

"I've already considered him." The wizard responded smoothly, as if he already anticipated the suggestion. "You're a bright fellow, Zhang. Can you figure out the reasons why I would go for you instead of him?"

"Hmmm.. He's younger than me, but more respected. He's fanatically loyal to you by all accounts. He's a solid thinker and can be steady under fire. Not to mention, he knows all the basics on each department of the ship." Zhang laid open his palms. "I can't think of any negative quality that the Chief of Security has that would make him unsuitable to command the entire ship."

"It's ambition."

"What?"

"Ambition." Harry pressed on. "Cleveland is solid, but slow. He's so fixed in his ways that making lead anything more than a single boarding crew would overwhelm him." He pressed his finger against Zhang's chest. "You however, have the drive, the hunger to become more than what you are. I can feel the strength in you. I can sense your need to achieve a lasting legacy and find a reason of your existence. You're smart, and while smarts isn't the only trait that is needed to lead the _Eviscerator_, it will help you catch up_._ I've checked the solarnet and I've found several self-help books that can give you a crash course on running a ship. I'm sure that someone who has spent his entire life gaining knowledge can incorporate that little bit as well."

"But that's unreasonable. Sailing is a skill, a trade, something you acquire by doing. You can't just pick up a book and know everything there is to this art. It would be like learning how to play piano by watching a maestro play – you simply can't."

"I'm not expecting you to master the nuances to the same degree as Claris. That's not why I picked you." The wizard stood up from Zhang's desk and walked over the digital panorama projected against the wall. It showed a picturesque image of Earth in all its glory. "I picked you because you're restless and willing to play dirty to get ahead. You claim you're not qualified, but you already master half of what is required to run a starship: leadership. People respect you. People fear you. Even Hargrave's old pirate crew knows not to mess with you. That is the mark of a leader. As much as you'd like to portray yourself as Ravenclaw, I know you're a true Slytherin at heart."

'_Slytherin? What in Mercury is he talking about?'_

The boy retrieved a small item out of his pocket and put it on the professor's desk. It was the ship's command ring. The ticket to power and the symbol of authority.

"I'm sure that taking orders from me or Claris is pleasant, but would you rather be in control yourself?"

"I…"

"Think about it. I'll leave the ring on your desk."

And that was the end of it. Harry didn't even need to view the security camera footage to know that Zhang had accepted the offer. From that day on, Zhang officially became Harry's Third.

* * *

'_Goddamnit Vinson!'_

The hit job went exactly as Captain Matsas had feared. Of his entire crew of fifteen, ten join Vinson's fated assault. Of that ten, only two survived to trickle back. Their scorched appearance and haunted eyes told all him all he needed to know. Vinson had failed, taking the lives of most of his crew with him. Only seven were left to man the _Spiral Spine_.

Seven was enough to lift off the old lady, if barely.

With hasty deliberation, Matsas terminated all pending trade and canceled all ongoing transactions. He ordered the remains of his crew to prepare for departure and lift the lockdown on his navigation and propulsion systems. Just to be sure, he warned that everyone should keep their weapons on them at any times.

Despite their desperation, the proceedings went on at a snail's pace. The loss of so much vital crewmembers did more than reduce their available manpower. They lost vital knowledge, which slowed down the departure process. Chief Vinson was the only decent engineer aboard the _Spiral Spine_, and now that he was dead, his underlings barely knew which buttons to press. If things went on like this, Matsas would soon be roasting on a spit.

"Put your backs together and disengage the engine locks already!" He yelled as he ran down the engine control room to take charge himself. He shoved the clueless technician aside and primed the engine startup itself. _'Good for nothing spacers, do I have to do everything myself?'_

The ship slowly ended her hibernation. Dormant systems were receiving jolts of power. Fuel started to flow from the fuel tanks. The energy reactor itself spun to a higher frequency, raising the entire activity level of the vessel. The _Spiral Spine _was waking up.

And then it all went downhill as a loud explosion tore everyone's attention away from their duties.

"Shit! I thought we had a few minutes longer!" Matsas left the engine control panel alone and switched to the security console to summon a status update. The outline of his ship blinked a single red signal in the cargo hatch of his corvette. "They breached the cargo hatch."

The captain quickly engaged the ship's anti-boarding protocols and ordered all of his crew to fall back to the engine room. It was the only area on the ship where their invaders had to check their fire. One misplaced pulse could risk a catastrophic reactor meltdown. When the last stragglers arrived in the engine room, Matsas quickly sealed the hatch and ordered a few of his waiting men to barricade it with whatever wasn't bolted down. It may not stop them, but it might delay their enemies long enough to figure out a backup plan.

Too bad the defenders didn't get the time.

Their enemies didn't blow up the hatch with explosives. Instead, they cut it down with a set of heavy-duty laser beams. Six of them penetrated the thick plating of the entryway and melted everything else without any effort. From the power put into the cutting beams, Matsas guessed they were Class III at the very least.

That wasn't good. If an enemy was willing to employ a Class III weapon in the engine bay, then he was seriously at risk. Just one stray beam could hit the reactor itself, initiating a disastrous chain of events that might blow the entire ship. With Vinson out of the picture, hardly anyone else knew how to safely power down the reactor.

His remaining crew stood rigid as they held their weapons. The coming moment would decide their fate. They held little hope that they would even survive. Still, his men were tough sons of bitches, all of em. Thus, when the pool of molten metal cooled to solid slag, everyone waited breathlessly for their enemy's next move. Would they throw a grenade first or come with guns blazing like space cowboys?

The enemy did none of that. Instead, they just walked inside. Their casual entry and total ease caught everyone off guard. No one even discharged their weapons at the newcomers. It was just too unbelievable.

All of them were suited up in boarding armor, making at least half of Matsas' crew useless in the fight. Only he and two other trusted men were holding Class II pulse rifles. He didn't think it was too important to purchase more powerful armaments since they were extremely expensive and had a tendency to compromise the internal integrity of a ship. But seeing all that heavy armor made him regret that decision.

Another figure appeared after the boarders finished entering the room. The boy walked in front of the armored figures and wore only an outlandish coat for protection. There was no doubt in everyone's mind that this was the captain that Chief Vinson tried to assassinate.

Captain Kid didn't look very happy to be here.

"I demand to see the captain of this vessel this instant."

Having quickly considered how bad it would be if he refused, Matsas hesitantly rose from his cover. He steadied the grip of his rifle and pointed it in the boy's direction. "What do you want from us? We have no quarrel with you."

The twitch in his eye didn't look very promising. "Is that so? Is it not a fact that eleven spacers of your employ have recently attempted to assassinate me? Do you deny this?"

It was useless to lie, and with six rifles pointed at him he knew better than to mess with this kid. "Vinson and ten of his lackeys deserted my ship in order to take a shot at your own. They did not receive any permission from me. If anything, I would have stopped my boys from taking you on if I had received word of it sooner."

The boy who vanquished over Captain Hargrave along with much of Matsas' own seasoned fighters weighed his fellow captain's excuse. Life or death, their future depended on Captain Harry's judgment. Matsas prayed hard to Lady Luck to grant him one more lucky break.

But his luck ran out. The boy shook his head and retrieved a heavy revolver from his side. "I'm sorry, but I lost too much this day. If I had been a little less prepared, I would have died from the ambush setup by your men. My second in command still lies dormant in my medical bay, recovering from wounds _your_ boys inflicted upon us. I noticed that not all of my attackers are dead yet. You shelter two survivors at this very moment. My wrath calls for their blood, and I _will_ have them, one way or another. The question is, will you surrender them or do I have to walk over your corpse?"

The two survivors desperately pleaded with their captain not to hand them over. While Matsas dearly wanted to protect them, it would only anger the boy further, perhaps pushing him into killing all of his crew. He couldn't sacrifice the wellbeing of his loyal subordinates in favor for those who have proven themselves to be disobedient.

Besides, the two deserters brought their fates on themselves. He nodded to the kid, and then motioned his still-loyal men to restrain their stricken colleagues.

"Fuck no man, I'm not going down without a fight!" One of his defectors announced as he bore his rifle at the kid. A splatter of pulse lasers raced towards the enemy, followed by the fire of the other defector. "Eat pulse you fucking demon!"

Instead of being struck, the boy along with all his escorts stood passive as the pulses diverted to the sides. After letting this go on for a few seconds, the kid lifted his revolver and pulled his trigger twice. There was hardly any recoil.

Instantly the rifles that the two defectors held jumped from their grips and tore apart into scrap. All fire ceased as the defectors had nothing left to fire back at the invaders.

"S-Shit!" One of them cursed, and approached a crewman to pry off the pulse rifle from the hapless man's hands. "Let go man, let go!"

Captain Kid jerked once with his head, and one of his boarders came up to aim with his odd-looking rifle. The man pulled the trigger and let out the same high-powered beam that destroyed the hatch, only this time it melted both the defector and the unfortunate crewman who tried to cling to his rifle. The beam lasted only a second but vaporized its targets, leaving only ash and few cut-off limbs behind.

Captain Matsas almost couldn't believe it. Class III beam rifles light enough to be carried without support. This kid was a monster if he had access to this level of restricted technology.

"My name is Harry." The kid announced as he twirled his revolver with his finger. The weapon suddenly ceased and aimed right at Matsas. "And my wrath is almost out of patience. Either you can give me my pound of flesh, or I'll cut it out myself from your fat slobbering belly."

The captain lost it at that moment. He wasn't sure whether it was the piercing green eyes, or the huge smoking bore of the revolver, but he knew he wouldn't live if he let the boy continue to make demands. The older captain pulled the trigger and let his pulse lasers loose at his opponent's direction, knowing they would be diverted but hoping whatever shielding the boy relied on would run out of juice. Matsas didn't get the opportunity to see if his plan had worked, for six green beams of focused heat tore right through his uniform. The lasers cooked and vaporized his internal organs.

The rest of his impotent crew fell swiftly.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	9. I: Star - Repost

April 5, 2011  
Repost: November 7, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes: **No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Star_

* * *

The capture of the _Spiral Spine_ didn't satisfy Harry's bloodlust, but it did ease his wrath.

The residents and visitors of Vlessing Base weren't as appreciative of his actions. The brazen destruction and slaughter following the initial ambush caused quite a stir amongst the crowd once the news leaked out.

Since his violent retaliation, the public treated Harry and his crew with much more caution. Vendors wouldn't sell them anything. Deliveries would be delayed or canceled entirely. Recruitment dried to a crawl as no one wanted to serve under the 'totally fucked up Captain Kid'. Even the bars and brothels started barred their men. The station's hospitality had disappeared entirely.

Harry had gotten the hint: he was overstaying his welcome.

At least his crew managed to complete all the important stuff. The water tanks and food stocks were fully provisioned. The fuel and air reserves had been fully refreshed. Minor damages have been repaired on the spot. Felicity and her assistants had just installed the new stern turret so there was nothing holding the Evie back. As for the _Spiral Spine_, Harry didn't want to deal with the complexity of maintaining a shared command just yet, so he ordered it to be stripped of valuables before selling it to a junkyard. The proceedings were more than adequate to pay for all of the expenses he had incurred during his stay, but it was a drop compared to the three hundred million credits that he needed accumulate to pay for the Gravitic Catapult.

That was why Harry didn't want to leave towards Trindebal Station without a job or some intel on some juicy targets. He was a pirate captain now, so he had to start doing what he was meant to be doing – piracy.

Of course, job offers and intel didn't magically pour into his inbox. If such a thing as a bulletin board existed, practically every government would spy on it and bust any proceedings. No, getting into contact with people who needed something doing or had some intel to sell meant cultivating relationships. You needed contacts in every port, connections with every high-placed administrator along with a lot of cash to bribe your way in. He heard from his crew that Claris usually took care of those things, but she was still scheduled to be in the vat for three more days.

Harry didn't know if he could survive three more days at the station.

Fortunately, it turned out a bloodthirsty reputation actually helped put him on the radar. He had just ordered Cleveland and his team to spread the word when he received an incoming hail.

The bridge viewscreen cleared up into a video feed. Harry initially expected to meet a shadowy scumbag from some shady gang. Instead, he met a very attractive looking young lady dressed in neat white modern business suit. The digital blue lines running vertically over her tailor-cut garments subtly accentuated her alluring hourglass torso. Her appearance was so unexpected that Harry had been rendered speechless.

The blond pony-tailed woman gazed curiously at Professor Zhang. He had taken over Claris' duties these past few days and sat on the captain's seat directing the workflow with his command ring. Instead of addressing him, the woman turned to Harry who sat on the lower observer's seat.

"I offer my greetings to you, Captain Harry." She introduced herself in a cultured British accent, though it could have been Australian or Scottish or some weird amalgam. Harry found it hard to fixate her accent precisely. He supposed he should be thankful that nine hundred years didn't warp the English language into something alien.

The lady continued on despite Harry's silence. "I represent a group of individuals who share some delicate interests. They have need of certain intervention services. Do I have your interest, Captain?"

Breaking his surprise, Harry leaned forward and tried not to drool like an idiot. "Sure. I mean yes, pleased to meet you. You are..?"

"You may refer to me as Star." The contact said without inflection. "In one standard minute, a courier will arrive at your ship and deliver a passcode protected information cube. Half of that code will be passed to you at the end of this transmission. The other half will be transmitted at a specific coordinate in space roughly two thousand kilometers away from Vlessing Base. Whether you wish to receive it or not is not my concern. Know that if you choose to complete the passcode and open the data cube, you will be bound by both confidentiality and commitment terms. Break this contract, and you shall regret it dearly."

"..Okay." Somehow, receiving a threat from a sexy office lady did not intimidate him very much. "So, 'Star', you've certainly peaked my interest, but I'm not going to go through all that hassle for chump change, you know what I'm saying?"

Star crinkled her mouth slightly in a way that made her even more ravishingly hot. "We are well aware of your ship's capabilities. Rest assured that your compensation will be well in excess of the norm. If you desire more detail, then I would suggest plotting a course to the provided coordinates. Good day, sir."

The feed cut off, leaving Harry alone with the rest of the bridge. He turned to Zhang.

"Already on it." His Third remarked as he entered a few commands on his console. "Security feeds show an armored courier vehicle is approaching our docking station. I've informed Cleveland and his security detail to greet our new arrival."

Having a lieutenant under him who knew what to do before Harry had to ask was quite convenient. The wizard nodded in acknowledgement and rose from his seat. "I'll be down at the entry hatch to get a hold of the data cube Star mentioned. Have you already received the first half of the passcode?"

"A moment." The professor leaned into his seat and called up the logs. "Ah, here."

A printer set along the bulkhead spat out a transparent plastic sheet. Harry took the sheet and saw nothing but dots and lines. "What the heck am I supposed to do with this?"

"It works through electromagnetic logeocryptology. Just put the sheet on a flat surface and put the cube in the middle of the sheet. The cube should acknowledge the input automatically."

"Alright, thanks. Prepare the Evie to undock on my command." Harry ordered as he made his way towards the exit. "I don't know what this message is all about, but Star sure caught my attention."

In more ways than one.

If the charade was all a prank, they wouldn't have used a hot blonde. In all fairness, why show her face at all? These 'group of individuals' were probably rich boys or fat cats who didn't want their names smeared in dirty dealings. Harry supposed they could have used more secure means to contact him. Showing a visual always left traces behind that could eventually be used to track the source. To actually deal with pirates in this fashion either spoke of confidence.. or something else. Did these anonymous interests dismiss him as some sort of hormone driven teenager that would do anything for a pretty face? Sure, he loved to tap that blonde's ass, but he wasn't that dumb. Was he?

Well, he did accept a very unreliable request from a totally unfamiliar girl to head out to an unknown region of space far away from any backup. Heck, he might even be led into an ambush right out of the doorstep of Vlessing Base. Harry made plenty of enemies in his short new life. It could be that an elaborate plot of revenge by some old friends of Captain Hargrave or Captain Matsas. It might also be that Star's benefactors were really wizards out to lure him somewhere quiet in order to recapture him and put him back in a crystal prison.

'…_Nah.'_

He was just being overly paranoid. Only James Bond dealt with all the cloak-and-dagger stuff involving hot babes. And he was no Bond.

* * *

The courier was just a bloody nobody who didn't seem remotely interested in the proceedings. The package itself appeared small and mundane. The cube didn't look very impressive either. It resembled a metal tofu cube actually. Harry brought the cube and info sheet to his quarters and did as Zhang instructed. The cube glowed brightly for a moment as it interfaced with the sheet, but soon died down.

"That's it?"

He took the cube and examined all six sides. He spotted nothing except for some indecipherable circuitry. The sheet had changed however. A digital map had replaced the random lines it used to show. Intrigued, Harry picked it up and looked at it closer. He held it up a light to see if there were any hidden watermarks or something like that. He even cast some faint diagnostic spells over it. Nothing. Shrugging, Harry put the sheet on top of his work console, which automatically scanned and interpreted the data.

A communication box opened up. It was his Third. "Captain Harry. The computer informed me that you've added new set of coordinates to the databanks. Do you wish to follow the course laid out on this route?"

"Yes, immediately."

"I'll put Navigator Jennings on it right away, sir. Zhang out."

It took more than two grinding hours to clear the ship for departure. The crew were only allowed bring the systems up gradually in order to avoid alarming traffic control. The loss of a few vital hands also slowed down the proceedings.

Practically every crewmember still treated him warily since the decimation amongst their numbers. Harry didn't mind the dirty looks. His crew either sucked it up or be sucked out of the airlock. In the end, they would all obey.

It was better to be feared than loved, after all.

Under the watchful gaze of the space station, the _Eviscerator_ finally undocked. It was an extremely complicated procedure that Harry could not even begin to follow from the observer's seat. Helmsman Nicholas first eased the mobile carrier out of the docking beam, making sure the thrust wouldn't burn or deform the station's hull. The engineers in the rear of the ship made sure the engine warmed up properly. They had to bring the thrusters online from a cold start without cracking any housing or worse, leaking an electrical surge that might electrocute the rest of the ship. The Evie's weapons remained firmly locked down, but their operators watched them over just in case something happened to them. The deck crew likewise guarded the two fighters locked down in the hangar bay. They made sure the heavy strike craft didn't slide or smash something over if the inertial dampeners happen to fail.

To see the sleek canine form of his ship come to life and move under its own powerful potential was immensely satisfying. Few people if any had such power at their fingertips. With this ship, one could travel throughout the entire solar system, coast along the forgotten corners between planets and moons, and attack any traffic along the way. Being the captain of the ship meant being the ruler of a tiny nation. No limits were placed on the extent of your power. Every little aspect of the lives of his minions eventually depended on his whim. The authority thrilled him.

Under the capable if clumsy direction of Professor Zhang, the crew managed not to bungle the departure sequence. His leadership had put the ship well underway along the route specified by Star. Apparently travelling from point A to point B didn't entail simply pointing the bow at the right direction and engaging the thrust. The navigator interpreted the route provided by their captain or clients and modified it to take into account a variety of contingencies unique to the ship and environment. Space wasn't as empty as everyone thought, especially around the tumultuous gravity well of Jupiter. It turned out that there were still such things as 'weather forecasts' in space, except these spoke of meteor storms and space dust instead of rain and fog. Basically, the captain determined the destination, and the navigator would ensure the ship arrived without crashing against a meteorite or something whacky.

"How long till we get there?"

Navigator Jennings turned around. "At the rendezvous? We can expect to arrive in two hours if we maintain our cruising acceleration."

Since that took a while, Harry decided to take a break and tour the ship. He had never really explored the ship since his first arrival. He didn't know where the mess hall was located or where the regular crew bunked in their off-time. He hadn't even seen the weapon emplacements yet despite their vital role in combat.

Maybe it was time to pay a visit.

* * *

The mobile carrier held one main bow turret. The Reaper Class VII varilaser turret mounted a single heavy barrel that fired a variety of pressurized particle pulses. The discharges could vary in intensity, frequency and even effect, hence the moniker varilaser. It was capable of firing standard pulses, nEMP and even high-energy penetrators such as X-ray and gamma rays. But the flexibility didn't come without a few trade-offs. The containment of the bolts had to conform to a variety of conditions, making them less efficient overall. The electrical casing degraded faster, reducing the cannon's penetration power and effective range. Other Class VII weapon mounts such as beam lasers or rail cannons offered superior range and power.

"Number three capacitors.. do we even have a few of those?"

"According to the datalogs there's a few in the tool shop."

"Go fetch them then."

A bit of grumbling followed. "Yes, ma'm."

The man turned around and almost bumped into Harry. "Sorry there, mate, but don't... get.. in.. my.. way..?"

Gabriel gaped at the sudden appearance of his captain. It wasn't often that Harry deigned to visit the lower bowels of the ship. The turret operator quickly smarted himself and buttoned up his loose-fitting shirt. "Sir!"

Felly and Hernandez turned around to see what was going on. They quickly adopted the same look of astonishment. Harry enjoyed their confusion.

"Captain?" Felicity prompted. "What brings you down here, sir?"

"Just taking a tour of the entire ship." Harry answered as he approached the truck-sized monstrosity they were working on. "So that's the Class VII varilaser cannon?"

A grand smile settled on Felicity's face as she presented the beauty. "Aye, sir. The Reaper packs quite a whallop, indeed she does." Then her smile disappeared. "The maintenance on that thing looks like a horror show. These goddamn pirates – excuse me for saying so – can't handle anything above Class V. They've been cleaning and polishing the insides like it was their personal pulse rifle. The spit and shine looks good on inspection, but they actually scrubbed a lot of the heat-absorbing coating. We've had to recoat the insides and replace all the worn out components one by one. We've been at it for a few weeks now fortunately so we're almost finished."

"Will this present a problem if we're forced to fight at say, two hours from now?"

"Nah. As I've said, we're replacing the faulty components individually. If it turns out we need to use the mount right away, we can just finish the current replacement and close the casing. It'll only take a minute or two, tops."

"You have it well in hand, then." Harry nodded. Out of all his civilian crew, it seemed that Felicity and her two assistants had adjusted to their new reality the best. They already came with a set of useful skills that made them very good gunners.

"Is there anything else I need to know? Do you have any advice for me on how to use this weapon in battle?"

"Hmm well.." Felicity trailed off.

"It's a big gun, but our generator is not so big." Hernandez remarked as he exited from the cockpit wrench in hand. "Class VII guns are mostly designed along the specifications of military frigates and cruisers. The Evie's a great ship, but she was never meant to be more than a small policing carrier. The Reaper can't sustain a high rate of fire. Heat is not the problem, power is. There's not enough juice to go around, especially if the Evie is burning full thrusters."

"So the _Eviscerator _can't shoot and move at the same time, is that what you're saying?" The wizard guessed. It made sense, he supposed. Modern fusion reactors were amazing, but the sheer amount of energy modern systems consumed dwarfed the energy consumption of a town in his time. Heck, even a simple light source on the Evie ran on kilowatts instead of watts. Harry didn't even understand why.

The Hispanic engineer nodded and added, "The turret has capacitors that can store up a score of shots, but after that is drained out the turret will slow down to a trickle. So the best way to use the main gun is to time your shots until the target is either close or immobile. This gun here ain't meant for extreme-range sniping duels. We got the interceptors for that purpose."

Ah, the fighters. The Evie carried two of them in her hangar bay. She still got room for two more, but Harry didn't have enough time to fill them up. That those spaces were still empty worried him a little. Having only half the amount of fighters available was like fighting with only one arm. Getting new fighters, along with some experienced pilots, took time and effort. Vlessing Base offered little in the way of both. Harry had heard that Trindebal Station offered a very sizable job market, so they would make do with only two fighters for now until the Evie arrived at that port.

"Ah, very well then. I'll get on with my tour. Keep up the good work."

In addition to checking out the four point defense turrets, Harry took a quick peek in the engine room before grabbing a bite at the mess hall. Two hours quickly passed by when Harry returned to the bridge in a good mood.

It was time to see what these vague directions were all about.

* * *

"It's a comm buoy." The sensor tech called out. "Anchored by hover modules fixed to that asteroid nearby. Probably keyed to our signature, otherwise it wouldn't activate and send us that signal."

The ship had been continuously accelerating since her launch from the pirate base and had passed the buoy long ago. Space travel worked quirky like that. It took quite a bit of explaining from Zhang before Harry understood some of the implications. Ships took forever to accelerate to a decent speed relative to their environment. It also took the same amount of deceleration to stand to a relative stop.

If you had to be at point B as fast as possible, you could just keep your thrusters burning. The only problem was that when you eventually get to B, you'd shoot right onwards and end up at point C before you know it. With a zero-zero intercept course, you could start from zero relative velocity from point A and end up at rest speed at point B by accelerating only halfway through the journey before turning around the ship and accelerating in the opposite direction. It was a heck of a lot slower though, but that was physics.

The best way Harry could visualize it was to use ancient train travel as an analogy. Huge, long trains needed a lot of power to get up to speed, and needed really good breaks to gradually slow down. The distances and forces involved in interplanetary travel only magnified the problem a hundred times.

Since they travelled at full burn, the ship essentially just coasted along without direction. With no other destination in mind, Jennings simply programmed a heading that would take the ship towards the clearest cluster before cutting off the thrusters to conserve fuel.

"What did we get from the buoy, Zhang?"

"Looks like we received another passcode." The professor said as he ordered the printer to spit out another plastic-like sheet. Harry then performed the procedure action over again at the bridge. The cube scanned the sheet and made a satisfying click.

Something different happened this time. The lines on the cube glowed green. A small opening appeared at the top, revealing a small lens hidden its body. It projected a small holographic recording.

Star greeted them again, this time in splendid three-dimensional hotness. "If you are viewing this recording, then you have decided to accept this mission. Do note that this entails the completion of _all_ tasks set forth by this message. Failure to do so will merit severe sanctions. You have been warned."

Her image vanished to make way for a local space chart. Jupiter was at the very center, but several clouds of asteroid fields and scores of moons dotted around the gravity well. It provided Harry with a crowded snapshot of the local space. One small icon blinked inside the large and mostly empty asteroid cloud designated as the Jupiter Outback.

"Vlessing Base is currently situated at the eastern half of the Jupiter Outback. The target is conveniently located at the edge of the Outback in the direction of the main interplanetary space lanes."

Another icon blinked, this one in red.

"This is a small colony development convoy that is delivering routine goods. This particular convoy is chartered by the Trindle-5 Asteroid Colony to deliver certain heavy-duty mining and defensive installation components. Amongst its cargo is a Class IX thermal beam laser mount and its accompanying hyperfusion power generator. Both of these components must not be allowed to fall into Trindle-5's hands."

A dotted line extended from the red icon and led further in the Jupiter Outback until it came across a symbol tagged as Trindle-5.

"The mission is as follows: destroy the Class IX weapon and its accompanying hyperfusion generator en route. We specifically state destroy, not steal, so do not consider selling the components afterwards or they might end up in the hands of Trindle-5 again. In any case, do not allow the convoy to reach Trindle-5 before you begin your assault, for the colony's perimeter is too well guarded with by anti-frigate railcannon emplacements."

"The convoy itself is formidable. Its base is composed of five medium cargo haulers armed with basic anti-fighter screens. Its escort includes a mercenary contingent of ten fighters along with one cargo hauler converted to a mothership. This numerical advantage makes an assault on this convoy with corvettes extremely unpalatable. However, a single mobile carrier is predicted to have an acceptable success rate."

A diagram appeared showing the details of all the ships, including the mishmash of mercenary fighters.

"Do not forget your mission. Your objective is to destroy the two components, not to destroy all enemy combatants. With regards to compensation, an account has been prepared at both Vlessing base and Trindebal Station totaling the sum of twenty million universal credits. Your arrival at either station will prompt a handover of this account at confirmation of the destruction of the target objectives. We do not provide any rewards for capture, but if you somehow manage to overwhelm their defenses, then you can consider any prizes that you've seized as your bonus. That is all. Star out."

Everyone on the bridge stayed silent for a moment. Harry wondered about the details. Twenty million creds sounded like a lot.. but the risks were awfully high. Why did Star bother to assign such a high-risk mission to just a single ship? Pirates didn't usually go after armed targets – why bother when he could just raid some unarmed transport that's completely alone?

'_Because I haven't managed to find anything better.'_

Pickings were meager and slim, and it would take forever to reach the three hundred million credit mark. Jobs like these were what he really required to earn credits fast. He would just have to rely on his crew and his powers to make up for the discrepancies and hope they survive at the end of the day.

"Zhang, invite everyone who you think is important enough to the briefing room. We need to plan our attack on this convoy."

The boy then left the professor to his duty. Spellbooks needed to be consulted. A little divining didn't hurt either, even if Harry still blamed the entire discipline for ruining his life.

* * *

The briefing room was nothing but a glorified closet with a round table and a dozen plush seats. A few presentation tools were available along with a high-resolution holoprojector that the crew occasionally used to view the latest action flicks without any stuttering. There really wasn't anything special about the space until Harry considered the sheer sophistication of privacy monitors. Nothing leaked from the room, neither sound, heat nor radiation. Not even gravity could be measured inside, preventing any snoopers figuring out how many people were inside.

Just to be sure, Harry added some privacy charms in order to bolster the room's protections. He had no idea some would employ scrying or any other magical equivalent of eavesdropping.

His Third invited a small group of people to keep the discussion manageable. Along with himself, he requested the presence of Chief of Security Cleveland, Navigator Jennings, Weapons Officer Stacy and Defense Officer Blake. It would have been extremely helpful if Claris had been invited along, but Harry didn't want to risk her recovery by bringing her out of the recovery vat prematurely. Selner had indicated that the executive officer would be up and running well before the ship would reach the convoy, which consoled him a little.

There used to be a tactical officer aboard the ship, but he had the misfortune of falling victim to Harry's decimation. The wizard just hmphed at the news. At least it proved that no one was out of reach, not even the most useful and talented crewmembers. Claris would be able to take over the deceased tactical officer's duties once she recovered. He wouldn't know what to do without her as most of his knowledge of tactics and strategy applied to magical duels rather than space battles.

'_This ship isn't the same without her presence.'_

"Thank you for being here." Harry began the meeting. "I hope you had enough time to study the details contained within the transmission and begun forming plans. So where do we start?"

The navigator spoke up first. "Since we are the aggressors, we have the luxury of choosing the time and place of the confrontation."

The man pressed something on his tab, causing the projector in the middle of the table to display a portion of the Jupiter Outback. Both the convoy and their end destination were highlighted with icons. The display contained additional details pertaining to the job such as projected velocity, projected route, obstacles, potential anomalies, etc.

"As you all might be aware of, navigating through the Jupiter Outback poses a serious challenge. Many resource-poor asteroid fields comprise this section of Jupiter's orbit, some of them deemed impassable. Other space debris originating from deep space constantly becomes trapped by Jupiter's gravity well, causing frequent collisions and shifts in orbit. There are only few viable routes for a convoy of this size. I predict that they will choose to pass through the largest stable corridor between the edge of the Outback and the Main Eastern Cluster, here."

The view zoomed in further, focusing on the hundreds of thousands of kilometers that this 'small' corridor represented. "Due to high interference, the scanning range within is severely limited. A single ship cannot cover the entirety of the corridor at its widest portions. At the three narrowest junctions along this route, our scans would have a much higher probability to detect other vessels, but these are typically chokepoints when the mercenary escort is the most at guard."

So they could either ambush the convoy at one of the three obvious bottlenecks, or try to catch them in the open with their pants down.

"Won't we be able to use our fighters to extend our scan range?" The professor asked. Smart. Harry hadn't thought of that.

Shaking his head, Jennings projected another image. The _Eviscerator_ along with her two interceptors appeared in the image. Open bulges that signified their scan range surrounded them. "Already thought of that. As you can see, our scan range is simply too limited. Our interceptors are defensive craft meant to operate in close support to their mothership. Not much space is dedicated to their sensory equipment due to their reliance on their mothership's superior sensor suite. If we had scout craft in our bay, we would have been able to make up for this deficiency."

Harry needed to rectify that weakness as soon as they arrived at Trindebal. But the mission came first.

"What is your advice then, Jennings?"

The man pointed at the middle bottleneck. "At this position, we will have adequate time to prepare our ambush and mask our heat signature. It will not provide us as much time if we wait at the end of the corridor. However, if their ships manage to pass our envelope, her vectors will still be constrained by the asteroids making up for the corridor. Splitting up is meaningless since our targets have only two directions to escape in. This reduces the likelihood of failing our mission."

The argument was sound. No one objected to the site of ambush, so Harry approved of the decision.

"Now that we know our battleground, what's next?"

The rest was pretty straightforward. They would find a rock floating somewhere in the middle of the corridor and dump their heat into it to minimize their emissions. If done properly, their heat profile would be indistinguishable from the asteroid in their target's long-range sensors. Only a direct visual would reveal their presence, but if they kept to the far side of the asteroid, the convoy wouldn't spot the _Eviscerator _until they came right on top of her.

There were some complications of course. The bottleneck was still quite wide and provided a lot of maneuvering space. If the convoy happened to skirt the edges when they passed through, it would leave the Evie out of weapons range from their targets. Starting up the engines from an extreme cold start and burning down the distance would give plenty of warning to the escorts.

Another issue concerned the deployment of their two interceptors. The heavy fighters were formidable duelists, but they would be badly outnumbered if they were thrown against ten coordinated fighters. Stacy advocated hiding them on the surface of an asteroid like the Evie, while Burke wanted to keep them inside the hangar bay as a reserve. While launching them from the ship was risky since it would entail retracting a critical portion of their armor, the interceptors would be able to respond instantly to any threats. Harry eventually chose to keep the strike craft in the hangar bay. Keeping the interceptors out in space risked their early discovery. The convoy escorts would be able to shoot them to shreds before they could even activate.

The meeting soon adjourned. Everyone left the chamber in order to brief the crew of the upcoming smash job. While his men prepared for the operation with drills or maintenance, Harry prepared in his own way: with magic.

* * *

**End Notes: **No comment.


	10. I: The Impossible Ruse - Repost

April 6, 2011  
Repost: November 7, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Impossible Ruse_

* * *

The colonies of the Jupiter Outback represented the current frontiers of human exploration. Most were small communities numbering from a hundred to a hundred thousand colonists. All made their livelihoods by mining rare and precious resources that couldn't be found anywhere else in humanity's reach. Jupiter was the vacuum cleaner of the solar system, drawing most asteroids and meteorites into its immense gravity well before they passed on and hit the other planets of the system such as Earth. Most of these rocks were useless chunks of ice or dirt contained commonly available elements such as iron.

However, once in a while a prospector discovered traces of exceedingly rare minerals amongst these rocks. Versetite, Elernite and Jeiseon were just a handful of ores with wide commercial application. Ships incorporating extrasolar armor were up to thrice as resilient as those armored using 'common' alloys. Cannons taking advantage of the properties exhibited by certain materials offered extreme range or precision. Even the Gravitic Catapults themselves would not have been economical without the unique resources extracted from Jupiter's asteroid belt. There were billions or even trillions worth of credits buried underneath their surface. Any entrepreneur could make a fortune out of exploiting even one small asteroid.

The problem was finding these rocks in the first place. Because of the perilous nature of working in the belt, only a few resource-rich asteroids had been discovered so far. That was what prospectors were for. Usually retired miners or family businesses, these adventure-hungry outfits scoured the immense and unexplored fields with their small and dingy ships. Some would never find anything of value. Others made a string of discoveries.

A prospector would hit jackpot if it encountered a previously undiscovered mineral. They were also the hardest to find because scanners had the tendency to dismiss their anomalous signals as plain rock. Only by bringing along an exogeologist did these explorers have a chance of discovering these incredible finds.

Once the prospectors found a suitable asteroid, they personally delivered their results to the nearest branch of the Exploration Society. This interplanetary organization was one of the few neutral outfits that earned recognition from every planetary and lunar government (except for Mercury). In exchange for a hefty cut, the Society managed the cataloging and sale of the claims on behalf of the prospectors. The corporations who showed interest in exploiting the claims could bid on the claims in auctions. If they won a claim, they owned the right to construct a colony on the rock.

Colony construction in the Outback was exceedingly risky. The region was mired in lawlessness, in no small part fueled by the constant machinations of different nations and corporations. Most of the valuable rocks discovered so far were located far from the sphere of influence of a Jovian moon. Apart from a few isolated stations, the area was the space equivalent of the Wild West. Great riches could be earned from exploiting the asteroids, but many pirates found it easier just to take the valuable goods from the miners after they finished all the hard work. This made perimeter defense a top priority for these developing settlements.

"Goldmine, anything on sensors?"

"Negative, Orion."

"Keep your eyes poked. The next tunnel is coming up soon. Keep sharp and stick to the plan. Velvet will be launching out of the Pouch in ten minutes."

"Copy that."

While the Trindle-5 colony bore more than enough arms to repel the occasional freelance pirate, it would not sustain a heavy assault from a determined corporate raiding fleet. That made the latest shipment of heavy armaments important. With just a single Class IX beam laser, the colony would be able to slice apart any cruiser that dared to threaten its claim. Only battleships could safely withstand the beam laser's punishment for a time, but no rational entity risked bringing out such precious strategic assets on a single mining colony. The entire future of the colony hinged on this convoy's delivery.

The colony hired a notable group of mercenaries to protect their shipment. The Orion Constellations were an established group of veteran fighter pilots who specialized in escort duty and anti-piracy sweeps. Their teamwork was renowned, often using it to great effect when ganging up on corvettes. When they heard there was an escort job available that paid out at a million creds, they immediately snapped it up, confident that they could accomplish this high-risk mission with their state-of-the-art strike craft.

The mission proceeded quietly so far. No threats have surfaced so far. No suspicious ships shadowed them either. Goldmine and Velvet both patrolled the perimeter of the convoy in shifts, making sure that no surprise would befall upon them. Still, it didn't hurt to be too suspicious. Orion had learned that lesson the hard way.

The comm crackled again. "Goldmine here, there's some space dust up ahead, along with a few rocks, averaging ten centimeters in diameter."

Dust frequently hovered around these tight enclosures. Rocks regularly crashed against each other, kicking up dust and other annoying chunks of rock that flew in all directions. Still, Orion felt uneasy about the whole situation. The colony didn't pay him to be complacent.

"Have you detected any electronics or mines?"

"None sir. No metals."

"Roger that, continue patrol. We're approaching a potential hotspot so I'll send out Velvet to scan the path ahead. Be careful out there."

Orion scrambled the rest of his wing from the mother ship and spread them out to cover all directions. The bottleneck ahead would be a prime position for an ambush. He wasn't about to take any chances. The tunnel of asteroids around them kept shrinking further and further as they went on, and they would arrive at the narrowest chokepoint in a few minutes more. Beyond that point, their maneuvering space would increase, reducing the chance of pirate ambushes. That meant that it was now or never. So far, Goldmine's sensors failed to detect any threats. Usually that meant that they weren't there.

Just to be sure, Orion prepared a 'surprise'. You could never be too prepared.

* * *

The ambush was one of humanity's most refined battle tactics. It was the art of making possible the impossible, of achieving total annihilation with just a fraction of the cost. With an adequate amount of mental and physical preparation, a small and outnumbered band could overwhelm a force five times larger by having the element of surprise. Along with an intimate familiarity of the terrain, the advantages afforded to the ambushers usually proved decisive.

A single mobile carrier screened by a pair of interceptors would have a hard time against a squadron of well-diversified strike craft. In an outright slugging match, Harry's forces would certainly lose. But in truth, the matchup was too asymmetrical to make a steady prediction. A single throw of the dice could upset the result. All the planning and positioning preceding this final, critical moment were of utmost importance. Would their ruse work? Or would their opponents spot their trap before Harry could spring it on them? Victory or death, it all depended on chance.

The first scout craft flew past a harmless looking rock, oblivious to the ship hidden beneath. A second scout made a more leisurely sweep, using ground scanners to map the surfaces of nearby rocks. The fighter passed its data on to its mother ship for further analysis. Harry wasn't worried. Even if its scans passed directly over the _Eviscerator_, they would not see anything. Harry had embedded the entire ship underneath a pile of space debris.

Every compartment of the _Eviscerator_ had turned dark and silent. The reactor ran at its lowest setting. Harry had supplemented its heat shielding by drawing scores of ritual wards around the energy generator. More minor wards dotted other parts and sections of the ship, minimizing emissions and adding other minor enhancements such as strengthening and cooling charms. While widespread modification to such an extreme extent would have never been possible in Harry's own time, in the thirtieth century technology had become remarkably resilient against electrical interference in order to shield against the widespread availability of EMP. This inherent resistance to all but the most potent electrical charges made it possible for him to cast certain low-powered enchantments around his ship without detracting from their performance.

"It won't be long now…"

The crew kept their silence. They waited in darkness and in the cold as environmentals had cut off most of the heating hours ago. No one on the ship even knew what went on outside since most of the internal networks were put offline. Even the shipboard sensors were turned off, blinding the entire ship from the outside world. The only way they were even capable of observing their surroundings was interpreting the data sent by the carefully placed probes spread out amongst the area. These tiny and almost undetectable gadgets communicated their passively collected data to the _Eviscerator_ by precision laser link.

Claris, having finally recovered from her injuries, sat on the captain's chair and poised for battle. One of her hands rose in the small light shining down on her position. She held out four fingers. It was the silent signal to the bridge crew that indicated that the ambush would go ahead as planned, and that they should prepare for imminent combat. Claris kept directing the bridge crew to tweak certain settings or adjust a few details in the battle plan as more data on their enemy trickled in. One notable adjustment was the order to cycle the main gun's varilaser setting to nEMP bolts. That meant that the executive officer felt confident that they could capture all the transports. Destroying them and their valuable cargo would be a waste, but capturing them would take more effort. That Claris wanted to proceed with the capture implied that they held the advantage.

Harry took in the details with a measured eye. '_I sure hope that Claris knows what she's doing. This is her first time running an independent command.'_

The main body of the convoy approached. Already several fighters hovered within relatively close proximity. If there was any good moment to strike, the Second thought it was now.

Her head turned to Harry, who for once had forgone his usual battle robes for modern vacuum-sealed boarding armor. It would be awkward to suffocate in space if his spells happened to fail on him. His helmeted visor turned to the woman and nodded his assent.

She slammed her fist against a control, activating the lights and initiated the warm-up sequence for the reactor and the rest of the ship. The time to strike was now. "Initiate detonation!"

Professor Zhang acknowledged the command. "Initiating detonation. All crew brace yourselves!"

The side of the asteroid facing the approaching convoy went up in explosion. The carefully placed charges broke up the rock around the buried _Eviscerator_ and flung the debris outwards, shocking anyone close at hand. The convoy hadn't detected any unusual emissions from that particular rock.

It was easy enough to land the ship on a flat enough crater. The sticking charms he applied around the outer hull had held the surrounding free floating particles onto the surface of the carrier, effectively camouflaging the vessel. The chunks, now freed from the hold exerted by magic, propelled forward with great force. Additional charges had been set at different points of the asteroid in order to widen the area of confusion. The intensity of their eruptions caused enough interference to confuse enemy scans. This obscured the _Eviscerator_ from the convoy escort for the first critical minute.

"Point defense, hold fire." Claris ordered as she took in the rapidly developing situation. "Main gun, track the enemy mother ship. Fire when it closes in maximum effective range."

"Enemy fighter wing approaching! One bomber escorted by two mediums! Detecting high explosive payload!"

"Engage all facing point defense turrets towards that bomber! Do not allow it to align into a bombing run! Ignore the fighters if you have to!"

Defense officer Blake spoke up over the din. "Missile locks detected! A volley of nine Class V anti-corvette warheads incoming at long range bearing 134-055. Shall I deploy countermeasures?"

"No." The Second ordered curtly. "The debris will take a couple of them out. Our point defense will handle the remaining missiles once the bomber is dealt with. Save the countermeasures for later."

"Aye aye." Blake then turned to his console and opened a channel to all four secondary turret mounts. "Power the pulses down to Class VI and set them to rapid cycling. Intercept the missiles when they near effective range. The bomber still has priority, so take that bird out first."

The updated plot revealed a new development. The enemy transports seemed to be effectively panicking. Instead of travelling onwards through the enclosure, they fell into old habits and scattered in all directions. Two of them even turned around and tried to head back the way they came from. That wouldn't do.

"Load a blanket torpedo! Disable guiding, and set it to timed detonation. Configure it to five minutes and be ready to launch the torpedo at this heading at my command!" The woman then turned to Jennings. "Engage liftoff."

The old man nodded and passed it along to Helmsman Nicholas. "Activate bottom thrusters, full vertical takeoff. Change heading to 090-090 at two hundred kilometers altitude and initiate main thrusters."

The _Eviscerator_ finally began to rise. Her ponderous mass parted from the larger asteroid with the groan. She laboriously launched herself upwards in the direction of the convoy. Gaining more space, her turrets were finally clear to engage the incoming bomber and the mass of anti-ship missiles. The bomber and missile swarm approached from opposite directions.

Claris snarled as she noted that the bomber adjusted its timing in order to strike at the same time the missiles hit. It was a marvelous maneuver that would force the _Eviscerator_ to split her attention.

Too bad the Evie wasn't a mere corvette with a pair of Class V turrets.

"Stacy, forget about the mother ship! Bring the Reaper to bear on the incoming bomber and overwhelm it with high-volume suppressive fire!"

"Aye, Claris!" She passed the instructions on to Felicity who was commanding the main turret at the bow section of the ship.

Cycling the setting back to pulsed particle bolts would take too long, so Felicity simply let it remain on nEMP. She powered down the Class level of the main gun in order to attain a higher fire rate. When the slow turret finally bore in on the bomber's direction, the barrel spat out a storm of bolts of highly potent electrical energy. The bomber, who had been expecting a typical corvette, was caught unprepared when it faced the torrent of fire. Unfortunately, the bomber was still out at long range, so the heavy cannon didn't score any hits on the agile craft. The rain of bolts did prove menacing enough to force the entire wing to abort its bombing run.

In their hasty retreat, one fighter managed to get clipped by a bolt, frying over half of its starboard wing systems. The fighter sputtered and fell into a spin as half its thrust cut off. Its highly predicable ballistic course made it a prime target for Gabriel's targeting computers. He eagerly selected the spinning craft as a priority target. The Reaper cannon tracked the target and drowned it with nEMP. Blue death engulfed the entire fighter, frying all of its systems and disabling it permanently."

"A fighter from Alpha Wing is down! Bomber has been successfully repelled and is circling around for another bomber run. Another bomber wing is approaching from heading 179-043. The Reaper turret is unable to bear on Beta Wing!"

"Main gun, keep focusing on Alpha Wing!" Claris said, and opened a comm channel to the hangar bay. "Scramble both interceptors to engage the enemy fighters designated as Beta Wing. Destroy the bomber but try to keep within the _Eviscerator_'s security envelope. I don't want our interceptors drawn into a dogfight."

"Two surviving anti-corvette missiles are closing in on the aft starboard section!" Blake called out, his urgent tone drawing Claris' attention from the hanger. "Reactive armor is primed! Brace for impact!"

The small explosive charges resting underneath the topmost armored layer of the ship tracked the incoming two missiles. When the projectiles almost reached the hull, the charges exploded outwards. The reactive armor flung a torrent of shrapnel, heat and pressure in the direction of the missiles. The sudden wave of incoming debris forced the missiles to set off prematurely. The forward warheads propelled pieces of superheated plasma and metal alloys into the cloud of debris in an attempt to pierce armor. A delayed explosive warhead nestled deeper within the missile followed right after the armor-piercing element. The piercers scorched and dug into the outer layers of the _Eviscerator_ but failed to penetrate the inner barrier. The explosive charges, shielded by the preceding matter, went on to impact against the weakened hull and exploded with great force. Many chunks of hull armor and other sensitive components fried from the impacts, affecting the vast energy grid that distributed data and power throughout the entire ship.

On the bridge, everyone held on as a vibration akin to a heavy earthquake rolled over their compartment. The inertial dampeners were briefly overwhelmed. The crew swiftly recovered after the last wave passed.

"Damage assessment!"

"Aft starboard is in yellow condition. Two compartments are open to vacuum. All six layers of armor are pierced in that section, but the damage is localized to a narrow area. No casualties reported so far."

Sweat rolled off Claris' brow as the engagement progressed. "Find out which craft fired those missiles and put a priority alert on that bastard. Stacy, is the torpedo ready to be launched yet?"

"The missile impacts delayed the launch, but the launcher crew will fire it as soon as they recover!"

"Good. Load the boarding capsule immediately after launch." She turned to the suited form of Harry. "Will you be going ahead with this plan of yours, master? The enemy is fighting back hard."

"Doesn't matter." Harry said as he unbuckled the straps of his observer's seat. "There's nothing I can do here. If I stay, the Evie's going to continue to get pounded. I have to cut off their head. Just keep those fighters off my back."

His Second nodded. She quickly had to turn back to her plots and concentrate on the battle. Captain Hargrave used to radiate confidence as he risked the lives of his men. He made it seem so easy, but in fact every decision you made had an effect on the survival of your crew. By being in command, Claris shouldered the full weight of responsibility. Just a single slip-up or a momentary lack of attention could lead to the death of a crewman's life.

When she warned Harry that the enemy fought back hard, she secretly wanted him to take over from her and direct the battle himself. Since he rejected it, Claris could do nothing else but persevere.

"Intensify the pulse barrage on my mark. I don't care if we drain the capacitors. Let's give our captain some cover!"

* * *

There was a truth and a lie. The lie was that everyone fought to the death. The truth was that everyone fought harder when the fight was to the death. The key was to present the illusion of urgency on your own side, while giving the enemy the choice to escape when pressured. That was usually hard to achieve deliberately, since your opponents were bound by honor, by retaliation from their superiors, or simply by their intense kinship with their fellow brothers in arms. In order to go against these ingrained human instincts and achieve a decisive advantage, you needed to exploit them as a violinist played his strings.

That was the intent of Harry's mission. According to the net, the Orion Constellations were longtime comrades who have shared many hardships. Such a tight-knit team benefited greatly from effective teamwork, shared experience and knowledge of each other's capabilities. Their coordinated defense against an attacking mobile carrier spoke volumes of their strength. Harry's strengthening and cooling charms wouldn't last forever. If the mercenaries continued to hold together, one of their bombers or missiles would eventually burrow through the Evie's armor and cripple his ship. He needed to intervene directly.

The only problem was getting close enough to do that in the first place. With no intimate knowledge of their fighter craft and pilots, he couldn't target them with an _Avada Kedavra_ across the hundreds of kilometers that the battlespace engulfed. So he needed to get close. Real close. Close enough to strike at the heart of the mercenary force.

The heart in this case was, of course, their mother ship.

If Harry had his Firebolt with him, he might have been able to traverse the empty space and reach the converted trade ship with ease. Sadly, he didn't think to bring his broom with him when he assaulted Hogwarts. Apparating inside the unknown enemy vessel would likewise be an ill-fated choice for its accuracy and energy consumption issues alone. That left the boarding capsule.

After leaving the bridge, the wizard raced all the way to the lowest deck of the ship and headed straight to the launcher compartment to enter the waiting capsule. The handful of crewmembers that operated the launcher sealed the capsule and loaded it into the launch chamber. Everything had to be done quickly so they had no time to check all if all the restraints and safeties were in place.

"The launcher will propel the capsule at 50 _g_." A tech explained on the other side as she worked to prepare the torpedo launcher for firing. "The inertial dampeners won't be able to bleed it all off, so you'll feel pretty squashed for a few seconds. After that you're in control. Try to be sparing with the fuel. The capsule doesn't carry a lot and it burns out quickly!"

Nodding in understanding, Harry gestured for them to launch. He didn't want to stay cooped up inside for long. He had a job to do.

"Heading is set. Course is set. Launcher is set. All systems green. Awaiting authorization from the bridge… authorization received. Launch in three, two, one.. launch!"

The tech wasn't kidding that some _g__ees_ might be felt inside. In that singular moment, the launch tube exerted an enormous electromagnetic force on the hollowed out torpedo, propelling it and everything inside with the force of a sledgehammer but a thousand times worse. His entire weight increased by six times, pressing him down hard against the cushions of his seat. The boarding armor that he wore had comfortably padded on the inside, but it hardly helped to soften up the immense pressure against his muscles.

"Gah!"

Fortunately, it only lasted for a second. As soon as the capsule left the launcher, it travelled forwards in a ballistic course. The artificial gravity reasserted itself, planting Harry's body back against his seat.

The control panels bloomed before him. There were a lot of gauges along with other pieces of vital data that would only make sense to someone actually trained in this shit. As for a virtual caveman Harry, he just activated the autopilot and let it follow the preprogrammed routines. For now he planned coast along without accelerating like Claris had suggested. An inert torpedo attracted a lot less attention than one that burned right towards an important target.

Still, the capsules weren't rated for stealth. One scout craft happened to get the ping on him, exposing the threat it posed to the rest of the convoy. According to capsule's sensor plot, the scout moved away from the main engagement in order to intercept Harry's pod.

Boarding capsules maintained one advantage over regular strike craft. Unlike the multipurpose design of fighters, capsules were built for only one singular goal: ferry boarders over to the enemy vessel as quickly as possible. Their simple design and limited scope meant that their main engines were far superior to those of a typical fighter. Though not as agile, their higher acceleration along with specialized inertial dampeners meant that they could outrun pretty much any small craft.

Of course, that point was moot if the fighter carried missiles that could accelerate even faster than the capsule, which the scout happened to have. Two anti-fighter Streakers closed in steadily towards the boarding torpedo. At this rate, they would hit Harry's capsule when it was only two thirds to its destination. Getting blasted all over space was not how the boy wanted his life to end.

But Harry had even taken this possibility into account. As a wizard, he possessed certain advantages over his muggle counterparts that gave him an edge. This was one of the moments to utilize one of those advantages.

He cut off the thrusters, jumped off the pilot's seat and headed towards one of the hatches of the torpedo. Now that the capsule was on a ballistic course again, he wouldn't be blown away when he exited the interior. Using his magnetized boots to steady himself, Harry tried to picture the gaggle of transports that were trying to flee the encroaching battle. He didn't do a very good job. The sun was quite a distance away, and in the dark of space, it was hard to spot anything by eye unless the object was really big or really close.

Still, Harry had a handy digital projection in the corner of his visor that showed him all he needed to know. He oriented himself in the direction of the mercenary mother ship and configured his visor to create a digital line that crossed between him and the ship so he would always know where to go. Then, after taking a deep breath, he kicked himself off the capsule, letting himself float in space towards his target with the momentum he already gained.

The boarding capsule activated its next preprogrammed instructions, shifting its direction to make it appear it would try to board one of the transports. This separated the capsule from Harry's free-floating course. In the enemy's perspective, it would look like the boarders inside the torpedo had decided to pursue a closer target in order to avoid getting hit by the approaching missiles. Sadly for the non-existent occupants, the missiles still gained quickly and managed to strike the capsule in the back. The capsule was no match to the missile. The scout turned back to the main fight, confident that there were no more threats.

It missed the flying wizard.

Harry coasted quietly in space. His vacuum-sealed armor protected him against the ravages of space, but it didn't make him invisible. As he neared his target, the risk that the mother ship would pick up his signature increased.

Harry retrieved one of his most precious magical possessions from his armor: his invisibility cloak. He wrapped the cloth around his bulky armor as best he could and prayed that his exposed feet would not be noticed. According to his sensors, the scout who blew up the boarding capsule continued its course.

It looked like the ruse had worked.

* * *

"_The thing's a fortress! We're throwing everything we have at that tub but it isn't budging an inch!"_

"Stay calm, Fogview. We only lost one bird so far and we've pierced the bogey's armor."

Arianne Spencer kept an eye on the continually updated scans of the enemy pirates as she stood in the middle of the command and control room of the _Starlight Constellation_. It was her job to evaluate the situation so the pilots wouldn't have to, and use her overview to call for the most appropriate tactics to adopt. The setup worked well for the Orion Constellations for five years, and she wasn't about to let that legacy end. This new enemy might be tougher than anything they had faced before, but that didn't mean they were unprepared.

"Let's go with the Dam Buster plan. Orion Flight, keep their interceptors occupied. Triangle Flight, you're the busters. Circle out then spiral inward to build up as much velocity as you need. Don't stray beyond five hundred kilometers from the target or you'll hit a rock. Goldmine Flight, try to make a nuisance of yourselves and distract the carrier's point defense. Release the rest of your missiles when Triangle Flight is initiating their end run. Over."

"_Acknowledged, Starlight Command. Dam Buster is a-gogo! Let's crack that egg!"_

They sorely needed the boost. The battle was far from going well for the Orion Constellations. They hadn't knocked out any of the mobile carrier's critical systems. All four point defense turrets along with their main gun were still firing back at the fighter wings. As energy-based weapons, their weapon mounts would never run out of juice unless the flights somehow managed to knock out the power grid or the reactor. In contrast, the only effective armaments the Orion Constellations had available that could damage the pirate vessels were their missiles. Half of their load out had already been used up. They would run out missiles entirely once Dam Buster had run its course, forcing her fighters to return to the _Starlight Constellation_ to refuel and rearm.

It would give the enemy mobile carrier a reprieve and an opportunity to threaten the cargo haulers. Spencer felt little pity for the convoy. The heavy tubs were pretty much sitting ducks anyway. Their client should have been more liberal with their wallets and hired more mercenaries.

Still, to think that a mobile carrier would ambush _them_, the Orion Constellations, and actually succeed in threatening their escorts! Spencer's mercenary honor was at stake. If she couldn't devise a means to disable or at least scare off the pirate threat, their entire reputation would go out the airlock.

The three fliers of Orion Flight were doing well against the enemy interceptors despite their superior close-range capabilities. One of the enemy's strike craft was clearly piloted by a rookie, but the other pilot more than made up for his wingman's deficiencies by having an almost supernatural ability to ward off Orion Flight. While their continued survival did tie up three of her fighters, at least they weren't in a position to threaten her bombers.

The Orion Constellation's pair of bombers consolidated into Triangle Flight. The first phase of the Dam Buster plan involved building up momentum. Triangle Flight first flew out, then spiraled inwards in order to pile up the acceleration. They needed all the speed they could get for their plan to succeed.

Goldmine Flight meanwhile darted in and out of the pirate vessel's point defense envelope. The two surviving scouts tried to damage the carrier's turrets but failed to achieve any meaningful damage. Their nimbleness allowed them to dodge extremely well, but they paid for it by carrying very light weapons. Their job was not to destroy the pirate carrier. They only had to distract the pirates in order to allow Triangle Flight to start its terminal approach.

"_Beginning final approach."_

"Be alert, Triangle Flight. It looks like Bogey One is in on the threat. Its main gun is bearing on your heading."

"_Fuck! Bogey Two and Three have broken off from us and are moving to support Bogey One. What are your orders, Starlight Command?"_

"Make a run on the main turret. Force them to split their attention again. We can't allow Triangle Flight to be diverted."

One of the lights on her consoles glowed yellow. "_Shit, I'm hit! Half my wing is melting off! I'm losing formation… I can't bring my heading under control!"_

The light blinked to orange.

Spencer cursed. That was the third fighter taken out of action. "Engage emergency stabilization controls and get your bird back to the _Starlight_. If you can't manage that, just eject. I don't want to see you blasted apart like Chick Magnet."

For the first time in years, they were facing an opponent who did not back down. Their stubborn resistance was really giving her a headache. Thus, when the pommel of a pistol bashed against the back of her skull, she absently reflected that they should have refused the attractive mission. No amount of credits was worth this much risk.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	11. I: Master of Orion - Repost

April 8, 2011  
Repost: November 8, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Master of Orion_

* * *

Sometimes, fighter craft didn't make any sense. They were small and fragile. Besides carrying a limited amount of missiles that _might_ punch through a hull, they generally stung like mosquitoes. Their design practicalities meant that many compromises had to be made, resulting in a sum that broadly weighed less than its component parts. In addition, the fighters were manpower hungry, with the highest personnel to tonnage ratio than any other space capable craft.

Fighters and bombers might have filled a niche back in ancient history due to the flimsiness of ship and tank armor, but from the onset of the Golden Age of Space, every decent starship doubled as floating castles. Size and weight concerns left fighters vulnerable to whatever point defense a warship boasted. Due to these developments, most space warfare strategists came to reject the concept of fighter craft. A large enough beam laser could vaporize them instantly without any apparent effort.

This consensus prevailed until the First Terran-Martian War proved the stuffy academics wrong.

As the perennial underdogs, the Martians didn't have much in the way of sophisticated industry and infrastructure. Earth's then-superior orbital foundries were capable of producing huge amount of capital ships and fleet escorts as long as the resources and manpower kept flowing. Mars in comparison had to rely on the production facilities of a few neutral colonies to bolster their own forces, often through the black market at great cost and delay. The longer the war went on, the worse this production discrepancy decisively affected the balance of forces. Mars' highest generals all agreed that something drastic needed to change to put the scales back in their favor.

Enter the strike craft. They may be small and fragile, but they were also dirt-cheap and required much less infrastructure to begin production. Small, localized outfits churned them off the assembly lines like pastries. Crewing them was also relatively simple – only one or two pilots flew the craft instead of a fully trained and fully specialized crew. While real fliers needed many years to fully master their craft, anyone could learn the bare essentials within a day. Most uneducated Martians turned into decently proficient pilots with just a few weeks of simulator training. What helped the Martian cause was that they already had many thousands of 'experienced' pilots at their disposal in the form of, what else, gamers. Once they fought for high scores and virtual achievements (perform 3000 double loops with an X-Wing while being targeted by a Death Star). Now they fought for their freedom. Thus, armed with a vast amount of small craft and a legion of enthusiastic pilots, Mars deployed their surprisingly effective bombers with devastating effect against the overconfident Terrans.

While beam turrets were indeed the ultimate bane of strike craft, they suffered from several limitations that were still not remedied to this day. The first and foremost disadvantage was that combat lasers generated an enormous amount of heat. This meant that the weapon mounts could not sustain the beam for long without melting the entire turret. With hardly any means to dump the heat excess from their ship besides radation, the cycling time of beam weapons remained massive.

The size of the turret presented an additional limitation. A small Class V point defense mount could swivel and turn its body faster than a sluggish Class IX cruiser mount. Still, even the fastest turrets had difficulty tracking the strike craft if they were circling the vessel at very close range, within just hundreds of meters. The rigid turrets couldn't incline fast enough to track the changes in elevation and pitch. The final disadvantage was that beam turrets were fairly expensive to build, limiting their deployment throughout the fleets.

Through exploiting these inherent weaknesses, the Martians wiped out entire battle groups worth several billion credits. Whole generations of decorated spacers and officers had been brutally slaughtered by gamers and rookies. As the Terrans scrambled to adjust by mounting more agile classes of turrets in the waning years of the conflict, the Martians had made their point. Their independence followed soon after.

Fighter craft, when properly employed, could vanquish over quite a number of formidable opponents. Sadly for the mercenaries defending the convoy, the _Eviscerator_ proved to be a bit more formidable than their usual fare. Mobile carriers were a class specifically designed to fight outnumbered against a superior force of pirate small craft. The Evie's four pairs of pulse turrets along with her Reaper varilaser cannon fired continuous bursts of blanketing fire that made life hell for the Orion Constellations. The mercenaries weren't able to penetrate the Evie's armor with their low caliber firepower. The best the small craft could achieve was knocking out subsystems and hardpoints such as the turrets. Their missiles proved effective in penetrating the carrier's armor, but the mercenaries had almost depleted their stock.

But not yet.

"Beta Wing is changing course – they're now on a bombing approach towards our starboard section!" Defense officer Blake announced frantically as he tried to interpret the data. "Their relative speed towards our ship is well in excess of two-thousand kilometers an hour. Our turrets can't track them."

"More missiles are also inbound from the opposite direction!"

Claris cursed. They had allowed the circling bombers to build up a prodigious amount of speed. The two strike craft were now veering off towards the Evie at lightning speed. If these bombers released their kinetic bombs, the momentum alone could cause potentially catastrophic damage. Sometimes she wished the Evie was a proper frigate. She'd have entire racks of counter-missiles at her disposal.

"Change bearing. Turn our undamaged prow towards the bombers." The second-in-command ordered firmly, trying hard not sound panicked. The Evie's bow armor was the most armored portion of the ship and had suffered little damage so far due to its toughness. Also, turning the ship to face the bombers presented the enemy with a much slimmer target profile.

"Divert all power from the engines to the main gun and forward facing turrets."

As soon as the _Eviscerator_ faced the rapidly approaching bombers, her thrust cut off. The ship routed all the spare power it could afford and dumped them into her forward facing guns. The two pulse turrets were firing prodigious amount of particle pulses to the approaching bombers but achieved little due to their skillful dodging. The Evie's main gun joined in the chorus of its smaller cousins, firing its own pulses at the priority targets.

Luck finally delivered. One of her larger pulses scraped one of the bombers, overloading its protective screen and tearing through the canopy. The damaged bomber lost all control and spun in chaotic patterns. The main gun obliterated the rest of the lifeless husk in order to prevent a collision.

This left the other bomber a small window of opportunity to close into optimum range. Ignoring the smaller pulses reaching ever closer to its fuselage, the surviving bomber finally released its deadly payload. The momentum behind lifeless oval object propelled it towards its target with the energy of a cruiser-grade railgun round.

"Full power to directional thrusters! Helm, hard to bottom! Brace for impact!"

The attempt to dodge the supersonic projectile came too late. The kinetic hammer smashed against the lower port bow section of the carrier, punching through the six layers of armor like a boulder. The massive projectile continued to knock through several bulkheads with ease, causing explosive decompression in several compartments.

Then, its modest warhead detonated, shaking the entire ship and severing entire power grids as well as frying a few unfortunate spacers. The damage that single buster inflicted dwarfed any other attack the ship endured so far. Even the Streakers that ripped the Evie's armor on the other side of the ship a few moments later were nothing but fleabites in comparison.

"Damage report!" Claris hollered over the din of tearing metal and scream-filled channels.

"Three hallways are blown into space! Secondary data room is compromised. Torpedo room is severely scorched, casualties unknown. Grid efficiency has dropped to seventy-seven percent. Thruster agility is reduced by twenty-nine percent!"

The damage was severe, but the ship survived. The _Eviscerator_ remained operational. Claris pushed away the damage report from her visuals and concentrated on the enemy's disposition. There were only six fighters left.

"Priority damage report! Turret two is operating at forty-four percent efficiency. The main gun is offline!"

"What?" The lieutenant turned to Weapons Officer Stacy in astonishment. "Get the main gun fixed!"

"They can't, ma'm! The compartment is open to vacuum and the power lines are completely burnt through. I'm diverting the operators to damage control but it won't help."

It looked like their opponents were closer to par than Claris had expected. Both sides had lost roughly forty percent of their capabilities. The Evie was left with only three secondary turrets, and the mercenaries were left with six remaining fighters. Along with that, the damage the _Eviscerator_ sustained reduced her overall effectiveness, but in turn the fighters had expended all of their missiles. Any further attack runs from the enemy fighters could lead to fatal results. The desperate fighters would certainly exploit the minor blind spot that the Evie now sported in her turret coverage.

The question was, would the mercenaries accept the risks and press the Evie on, or would they return to their mother ship to rearm their missiles? As the sensor plot revealed the fighters circling back for another attack run, the situation didn't look so rosy for Claris and the rest of the pirate crew. She hoped whatever Harry planned would pull them through.

* * *

The _Starlight Constellation _was not a purpose-built warship. The medium-sized ore hauler had already seen a fair number of years when her previous owner sold her for scrap. Orion and his group eventually snapped up the aging hull for a bargain. They performed a few jobs for a local Titanian shipyard in the past and became friends with the owner. This earned them a discount for the transformation of the hauler into a veritable light carrier. While the _Starlight_ would never have the structural strength and offensive armaments to survive direct engagements, her roomy hangar bay was enough of a weapon in itself. With ten fighters at her disposal, most battles were fought far away from the carrier.

This didn't change the fact that the carrier posed a weak link in their defenses. The _Starlight_ was particularly vulnerable to boarding. The tendency for transports and haulers to automate every system to the extreme provided several advantages to any enemy boarding party. First, they didn't have to subdue so many crewmen. Second, it would be child's play to sabotage her unsupervised systems.

At the same time, the technology didn't make it easy. Even the oldest starships still in use employed extensive monitoring systems. While Harry's invisibility cloak circumvented most of them, the moment the ship's computers registered Arianna Spencer's fluctuating life signs, the alarms went off.

'_Fuck! They didn't tell me about this.'_ Harry fumed as he holstered the sidearm that he had just used to knock the enemy officer out.

The hatch to the command and control room automatically slammed shut, locking Harry and the handful of unconscious operators inside. He quickly fired his revolver at the workstations to fry them into uselessness. He then revolved the bullet chamber and fired at the reinforced hatch, letting several blood-powered Reductors slam against the surface. The civilian-grade armor parted easily enough, letting Harry's bulky armored form squeeze through the opening he made.

"There he is!"

Some semi-uniformed group of spacers fired their pistols and rifles at Harry, but his armor held firm against the barrage of pulses. He fired back at the soldiers as he moved closer. His Reductors caused some broken bones and severed limbs amongst his opposition. As much as the boy liked to sprint, he couldn't due to his lack of training with his armor. Harry had to move slow enough to let the suit's internal monitors pick up his leg pressure and predict his desired movements from there. If he walked too fast, the relevant armor limb would lock up its internal motors, paralyzing him in place during a critical moment. Mastering boarding armor was a subtle art – you just had to develop a feel for it. A feel that the wizard obviously didn't attain.

"Jeezes that guy's got some sort of pressure gun. Get to cover!"

The soldiers ran back faster than Harry could keep up with his lumbering gait. One of them retracted a panel from the bulkhead and fiddled with it. All of a sudden, the sidewalls deployed some sort of improvised cover for the defenders to cower behind. It took several of Harry's shots to punch through, but that gave the crewmen enough time to draw back to another set of deployable cover.

'_This is getting fucking ridiculous.'_

Feeling increasingly frustrated, Harry changed his pistol's setting back to Fiendfyre and went on to scorch the pistol's flames right over the cover. Several people burned right then and there, but the remaining survivors just continued to pull back. Even though their pulses dented nothing on Harry's armor, the defenders continued to harass him. Why were they so insistent in drawing out the fight like this?

Unless…

"Gotcha, dumbass!"

The artificial gravity that kept Harry's feet on the floor suddenly intensified to up to four times Earth's regular gravity. Finding out that you suddenly weighed two-hundred-and-forty kilograms instead of just sixty was a shock to his body. With the heavy weight of the boarding armor piled on top of his regular bodyweight, Harry could not even lift a finger.

The wizard could do many things, but negating the effects of gravity wasn't one of them. Even if he knew a spell, he wouldn't be able to cast it without his wand. Wizards and witches never had to deal with this kind of warfare so they never invented any spells that could counter this situation.

'_Fucking great.'_

"He's stuck. Jimmy, finish him up with the plasma torch!"

A vacuumsuit-wearing spacer came into his view. The spacer's working outfit was clean and blue like the rest of the crew's uniforms. The bulky fuel module strapped against his back distinguished him from the others. A thick feed ran out the bottom and ended at a machinegun-sized cutting tool. A tightly focused beam of plasma jutted from the barrel, promising instant death to anything it came into touch.

'_I can't believe I'm about to feed my curses again..'_

Before the defenders' very eyes, the intruder disappeared. Before they could even blink, the armored invader appeared only a few meters away with a loud pop. Harry landed in a pile. He clumsily managed to sort out his limbs and fire his pistol at his dumbstruck opponents. Three more crewmen burned to death before Harry aimed his fire spitter at the spacer carrying the plasma torch. The man barely recovered his shock before unnatural heat engulfed his body. His fuel module followed instantly.

_Boom!_

The plasma contained in the backpack module freed itself violently, splashing the entire corridor with positive ions heated to thousands of degrees. A large chunk of the entire corridor simply didn't exist anymore, having been molten through into other corridors and rooms. Even Harry barely escaped unscathed. If it wasn't for the many wards carved into his armor, he would have suffered more than superficial pit marks.

A small alarm did reveal something disconcerting. His armor wasn't vacuum-sealed anymore. The suit automatically filled the holes with some sort of rapid-hardening foam, but it wouldn't hold up to anything more than a punch.

The plan turned botched from the start. Claris, Zhang, and even Harry himself had underestimated the sophistication of the _Starlight_'s defenses. None of Harry's advisers predicted that Orion's group would have put so much effort in modifying and reinforcing the old cargo hauler to a reasonable military standard. Installing anti-boarding measures such as localized gravity control and retractable bulkhead cover was intensive work and beyond the scope of most civilian contractors. Even the _Eviscerator_ lacked localized gravity countermeasures.

Knowing that there was no point in maintaining radio silence, Harry opened a direct channel to his ship. "Claris, I've been found out. What should I do?"

The grainy visuals painted a picture of chaos and panic on the bridge. Claris didn't even address him at first, too occupied with keeping the _Eviscerator_ alive. Only when there was a lull in the battle did her stressful gaze met his own.

"Captain," Claris gritted as the impact of kinetic rounds rocked the bridge. "The situation is desperate. The Evie took a lot of beating. The enemy's remaining fighters are playing havoc with our subsystems, taking them out one by one. We'll lose our turrets soon if this goes on. Forget about placing charges over the entire ship. Just go straight for the command ring!"

The channel turned to static, and Harry cleared the video feed from his visor. He oriented himself and stepped towards the bridge as fast as he could. Minutes passed as he followed the blueprints provided by Star, often coming up against dead ends or open spaces where there should have been none. Since the bridge was located at the very bow of the carrier, he eventually made it through and came across a sturdy hatch. It looked to be twice as thick as all the other entryways.

Thicker or not, successive applications of Fiendfyre quickly made short work of the reinforced hatch.

Compared to the men he faced in the bowels of the ship, the handful of officers controlling the light carrier seemed soft. They weren't pansies by any means, but they just weren't creative enough to put up a good fight. When he stepped inside, Harry expected the incoming grenades. He simply slipped back out and cast some low-powered charms to bounce the 'nades back. After that, a few simple stuns knocked out the remaining pests.

It didn't take much effort to spot the all-too-vital command ring. It still hung from the captain's finger.

* * *

The deceptively unassuming piece of jewelry provided its wearer with the key to rule the entire ship. In an age of far-reaching digitization and electronic computation, every computer system was vulnerable to tampering. Career hackers, intelligence outfits and even rampant AIs could gain access to every system through a simple open sensor port. If such intruders were allowed access to critical functions such as the inertial dampeners or reactor cooling, the damage they could inflict would be extreme. Whole wars could be won and lost depending on which side employed the better hackers. Only by resorting to analog means could ships become immune to electronic intrusions. Effective, but unpalatable.

To counter this digital threat, space vessels were designed with programming rigidity in mind. Permanently coded programming stored in non-alterable mediums presented the first line of protection. Moving beyond the magnetically or optically stored 0's and 1's, the military was the first institution to adopt multiphasic crystal circuits. Most of the code stored in these resilient circuits had to be burned through complex means by specialized manufacturers. The crystal and the coding it contained would extremely resilient to all manner of external shocks, including EMP. Viruses and rogue AIs might be able to proliferate in temporary buffers, but they could never alter the core programming inside these crystals.

The second line of protection the military had introduced was physical authentication and channeling. All the control crystals that operated individual subsystems were tied to a singular Ship Crystal that acted as the ultimate controller and regulator onboard a starship. Every command issued by every individual crewmen would pass through the Ship Crystal first before being directed onwards to the relevant systems such as lights or thrusters. There were some critical systems that could not be accessed by anyone, such as the all-too-delicate inertial dampeners. But in some situations captains needed to have emergency control over these untouchable systems in order to avert disaster. The designers faced a dilemma. How were they able to grant captains top-level access to their ships without leaving the door open for hackers?

They eventually came up with the command ring. Composed of a unique type of high grade extrasolar crystal, the ring had the unique ability to bond to a corresponding crystal through means other than conventional radio waves or other EM communication. The process behind this impossible feat was closely guarded by the oligopoly of corporations that manufactured the command rings. The metal shell that covered the crystal didn't serve any purpose besides providing others the illusion of jewelry. Complex programming and ultra-advanced engineering insured the ring would only work when it was firmly attached to a bare human finger. Only then would it link up to the Ship Crystal itself, of which the command ring's crystal had been separated from in the production process. This provided a near-unhackable and foolproof method against unauthorized access of the ship's controls.

Yet, this protection scheme opened the way for a new vulnerability. The command ring, while highly advanced, could never distinguish between its owners. As long as any human wore the ring, he could order the ship to do pretty much everything. To stop the potential rampage, the ship's crew could destroy the Ship Crystal nestled deep within the center of the ship. But this option left the ship as a virtual husk, where no automation and coordination would be possible. The spacers could also destroy the less critical control crystals that regulated each specific section. This option crippled the ship only temporarily, as the control crystals were not unique. Every space vessel carried spare crystals embedded with the same programming that could be taken out of storage to replace the faulty crystals.

Still, severing the connection between the command ring and the control crystals took time. Time that the diminished crew of the _Starlight Constellation _didn't have.

When Harry momentarily removed his gauntlet to slip on the silver ring, his entire suit's interface lighted up and expanded to include a visual of the carrier's readiness. A few portions were marked in red and yellow, but the rest of the map looked perfectly green. Using the fingerpads embedded in his gauntlets, Harry navigated the interface and relayed a few essential commands.

First, he shut and sealed every hatch. No one could go in or out of their current compartment. This also sealed the hangar doors, making it impossible for the enemy strike craft to land or launch.

Second, he deactivated the artificial gravity. Any conscious crewmembers who were thinking of cutting through the hatches would find it extremely difficult to move around with their heavy equipment while they were floating in zero gravity.

Third, he ordered a change in the mix of air. The air scrubbers released less air in the compartments, reducing local pressure and making it hard for anyone to breathe. Harry also reduced the oxygen level to help the spacers off into lala-land. The _Starlight_ dutifully relayed him the conditions of the crew. Only the hangar crew remained conscious. Their frequent exposure to vacuum necessitated them to wear their vacuum suits constantly in order to service inbound and outbound fighters. Since the fighters have already launched, the hangar operated in complete vacuum. This rendered them immune to the changes in air quality.

To deal with the conscious hangar crew, Harry first pumped excess air into the airless hangar. When the hanger accumulated enough air to exert normal pressure, the wizard cranked open the main hangar door, creating a 1 centimeter opening into space. The recently cycled air promptly escaped through the gap, drawing the weightless hangar crew along with the hefty current. Those who didn't manage to grab onto something solid smashed into the bulkheads with enough force to break bones or knock them into unconsciousness. Harry repeated the trick in order to lodge the remaining conscious sailors from their hold.

'_Take that.'_

While the boy could have spaced the hangar crew entirely, he had to keep some leverage for the next stage of the plan.

Now that all the loose ends were dealt with, Harry engaged the main thrusters. The _Starlight Constellation_ slowly started to cruise towards the _Eviscerator_. If the mobile carrier had any effective weapons left, she could easily rake or destroy the neutered mercenary light carrier.

With the course of the captured ship set, Harry waded through the control menus until he found the selected reactor controls. Holding the options ready, Harry then used a different function to gain access to the enemy's command channel. It was time to negotiate.

"Attention, mercenaries. This is Captain Harry of the _Eviscerator_. Cease fire immediately and fall back. I'm not going to warn you twice."

A new face popped up, showing the helmeted black-bearded figure of one of the pilots currently engaged in battle. "This is Orion, lead partner of the Orion Constellations. Who the fuck do you think you are, brat?"

Harry couldn't help but smirk. "A brat who is in complete command over your mother ship." And to prove it, he streamed a security visual to Orion that displayed the messy state of the bridge. "Don't worry, they're just unconscious… mostly. Now are you going to pull your forces out or not?"

The lead pilot looked like he was about to run off his mouth, but then calmed his fury. "And what if we don't?"

Sighing, Harry flipped the control he had ready in case Orion needed more convincing. "Look at your sensor feed."

Emergency valves located along the outer hull retracted inwards, revealing several gaps along the carrier. A fine spray of coolant leaked from the gaps, surrounding the sides of the _Starlight_ with luminescent mist. It was almost as if the vessel released a puff of cigarette smoke. The ship leaked only a small of coolant into space so far, but that could change at any moment. The reactor even temporarily cooled due to the venting of heat in the form of steam. Still, with less fluid, the reactor would soon heat up the remaining coolant, warming it up after every cycle until the pipes burst under the enormous pressure.

Orion witnessed it all from the images his fighter received. He ordered his scouts to confirm the sighting and turned back to the link with Harry. "By Mercury, you're a real mad sunovabitch."

"I'm still waiting, Orion. If your fighter wings don't pull back from my ship, I'll dump out a quarter of your reactor coolant every fifteen seconds."

The veteran pilot disengaged from the commandnet, probably to confer with his fellow pilots in private. Just as the first fifteenth second passed, the leader returned on the commandnet.

"Fine, fine! Just stop the leak and we'll pull back from the engagement for now."

"For now." Harry agreed, and relayed the command. The reactor coolant stabilized and the mist stopped spreading out. "Here you go, now retreat from the mobile carrier. The _Eviscerator _won't pursue."

The screen plot in the centre of the bridge showed six tiny dots moving away from a larger one. Several quiet minutes passed until the fighters were well out of the way. Harry had the sense that the mercenaries were furiously arguing with each other on what they should do next. Things didn't look too good for them, although the _Eviscerator_ didn't look so good either. Even from the _Starlight_'s scanners he could see many scorch marks and ruptures along her once pearly hull. If either side wanted to fight to the death, the mercenaries would have decent odds if they manage to take out the Evie's two remaining turrets.

In a way, Harry and Orion both held each other hostage. Harry could self-destruct the mother ship if the mercenaries didn't do what he want, while the mercenaries could take out the _Eviscerator _with heavy losses if they had no other hope. Harry didn't intend to push the mercs into a corner. The Evie had taken enough of a battering and he just wanted this job over with. The next talk would determine everyone's fates.

"Alright, we're out of missile range, Captain Harry. Shall we talk? What are your demands?"

It took only a moment for Harry to retrieve the list Claris had prepared for him in advance.

"First, I want you and your entire mercenary group to power down and scuttle all your weapon mounts. Then, I want you to surrender the convoy transports to me intact and in working condition. Finally, I want you to retreat from this area."

"No can do. We're contract-bound to ensure the safe passage of all the transport vessels under our protection. Mercenary honor won't allow us to accept anything less."

"Don't give me that mercenary honor crap." Harry spat. "Is your precious honor worth more than the lives of your crew? Or that pretty little brunette up in the command room? With just one press of a button, I can fill that entire room with carbon monoxide."

The mercenary looked heavily conflicted for a moment, and veered off to talk with someone else on another channel. He eventually relented. "Fair enough. But I do not have authority over the individual transport captains. I can't order them to halt their flight. They won't listen to me."

Harry began to scowl as he grew impatient. "Then please _tell_ the fair captains of those transports that if they do not power down their ships, put them in lockdown and surrender their command rings to me intact, I will use my mobile carrier, my interceptors and even this little dump of a carrier to hunt them all down and shoot them to pieces. I'll ram this ship against a transport if that takes too long, understand? Do not test my patience."

"Please… please wait."

The pained-looking Orion withdrew from the commandnet again, probably to confer with his fellow pilots and with the transport captains themselves. By demanding the surrender of the transports, Harry had raised the stakes of the game. It would have been a big pain in the butt to pursue the scattered cargo haulers with just the meager amount of forces at his disposal. With only two interceptors and one damaged mobile carrier, they could maybe catch up to three haulers, but the other two would be long gone by then. Asking Orion to hand the transports in a silver platter would be much more convenient.

The channel reopened again. Orion's grim face glared hatefully at Harry's triumphant grin. "I've notified the transport captains and we've reached a consensus. Our offer to you is this: we will allow you to take possession of all five transports and their cargo. However, we will only hand over the command rings to you _after_ we've ferried all of the civilian crew over to the _Starlight Constellation_. They will travel to my ship using unarmed escape pods. Once that is done, I would like you to hand _Starlight_'s command ring back to me, and then we will both go our separate ways."

"And your weapons? I noticed you seem to have conveniently forgotten to mention your fighters."

The man smiled sardonically at the response. "Our fighters and the weapons they bear are our only guarantee of your cooperation. Disarmament is not an option."

"Fair enough. As long as your fighters are out of weapons range from the _Eviscerator_, her interceptors and this ship, we won't attack. Is this a deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

The mercenaries kept their word. The fighters held back from doing anything rash, and the transports stopped their frantic scramble and returned to the _Starlight_ like tired cows. As the Evie gained valuable time to patch up her holes, the transport crews slowly shut off system after system as they went about the long process of locking down their transports.

Harry wasn't sure if any of them were sincere enough not to leave some trap or other form of sabotage, but they knew very well that the mobile carrier could easily catch up to the old and slow _Starlight Constellation_ to take revenge. On the other hand, Harry's forces remained threatened by Orion's fighters. The small craft could still make a devastating attack run on the _Eviscerator_. Both sides were better off in the end if they held to the terms of their deal.

After three hours of slow-going repair, lockdown, and evacuation, Orion finally left his fighter in space and boarded a spare escape pod in order to return to his carrier unarmed. The hangar bay, now crowded with other escape pods and masses of injured hangar crew, still offered enough space to admit his craft. The grim pilot left the exhausted pod and headed to the back of the hangar where the armored Harry met the mercenary leader. With the command ring on one hand and his revolver on the other, the wizard was able to intimidate the disgruntled mercenary and civilian crews from doing anything rash.

"So you are the upstart who somehow infiltrated my carrier. How did you manage to sneak past our best sensors?"

Harry just smiled.

"Not telling, huh? Well that's fine. I can study the logs later. In any case," Orion withdrew a pouch from one of his flight suit pockets. He widened the noose to show all five gleaming rings. "They're the real deal. Do you want to test them all or can we skip it and exchange the rings already?"

"Not exactly." The boy raised the finger attached to the _Starlight Constellation_'s command ring. "If I hand you this ring right now, you can do all sorts of things to trap me or kill me while I'm still onboard this ship. I'm not going to fall for that trap. No, this is how it's going to go: you hand over all five transport ship command rings, and I'll board one of those little escape pods and make my way out in space. When I'm outside this ship's turret range, I'll release the ring attached to a beacon so you can pick it up when I'm not at your mercy."

The older man thought on Harry's proposal. "I suppose my remaining fighters will insure you won't blow up the _Starlight_. Just release the command ring before you're halfway back to your mobile carrier. I can't let you return to the confines of your ship carrying our command ring. If you don't release the ring in space at the designated place, I'll send in my fighters anyway, hostages or not."

His offer sounded reasonable enough. Harry didn't want to push this negotiation too hard. He sensed that Orion, though mad, remained receptive to this arrangement. Demanding anything else might risk a desperate act on his part.

"That is… acceptable. Yes, quite acceptable." Smiling modestly, Harry proceeded forward and held out his hand.

The mercenary grumblingly dropped the pouch containing the transports' command rings onto the outstretched palm. When Harry offered a handshake, Orion shook it with more than a little caution. "A _pleasure_ doing business with you, Captain Harry. Just keep in mind that I _will_ hunt you down someday."

"Likewise." Harry offered back as he proceeded to an idle escape pod and make his way back to the _Eviscerator_. There was still a lot of work to be done. The damaged ship needed to get her holes plugged and her turrets brought back up. He also needed to draw up skeleton crews to operate the five abandoned transports. Then he needed to safely escort the cargo haulers all the way to the Trindebal pirate station, which would take at least a month of travel. Anything could happen during that time.

That reminded him of Star's mission. Harry wasn't even sure the transports even carried the Class IX beam laser and its accompanying power generator. At least Harry had checked it wasn't on the _Starlight Constellation _itself – the heavy cruiser-grade weapon mount was simply too big to hide in some corner.

Though the battered _Eviscerator_ didn't come out of this fight unscathed, all in all Harry considered his first pirate job to be a success. A handful more of these types of jobs and he would soon be reunited with the full potential of his magic.

'_Three hundred million credits, here I come.'_

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	12. I: Triumphant Return - Repost

April 10, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** ZZZZZZZ I hate proofreading. I got so bored with it that I decided not to bother anymore, and focus my attention solely on censuring explicit content.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Triumphant Return_

* * *

Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Such sayings have rung true since the dawn of human civilization. From Emperor Napoleon, to the dreaded Hitler, to President Vickson, to Field Marshal Marlboro-Riddle, to Chairman Tingru, history was replete with tyrants who let their hatred and obsessions run their ultimate course. So why wasn't Master Harry doing the same and indulge himself in the power he had at his disposal?

With three-thirds of the crew away to man the five captured transports, the repair work on the _Eviscerator_ commanded his complete attention. He had an obsessive urge to fix every imperfection as if the tiniest error would trigger an explosive decompression.

Claris had tried countless of times to entice Harry to relax himself, preferably with her. But the young man only continued to mutter to himself as he continued to draw pentagrams and other unintelligible letters along every crack and every piece of broken equipment. Sure, seeing him mutter _Reparo_ and find a burnt out gravity module turn as good as new seemed impressive, but they could have easily replaced the module at the next port. All the really important subsystems had all been repaired in the first week since the engagement with the Orion Constellations. With the powergrid and turrets restored to a reasonable shape, the risk of a critical failure dropped to a negligible range. But Harry continued repairing the armor paneling, the vacuum sealing, the environmental filters, and many other parts Claris didn't bother to track. His obsessions drove him to put his ship back in peak condition despite the uncertain effects of his magic.

He didn't stop there.

When he did go off and relax, he frequently visited Dr. Selner in the medical bay. They'd talk about the wounded languishing in the beds, the dead freezing in the morgue, and even touch on the workings of magic. One time Claris spotted them at the mess hall, sharing a coffee with each other as if they were friends!

The pirate lieutenant sat up from her desk and went over to the full-sized mirror fitted in the paneling of her quarters. Why couldn't she catch Harry's attention? Was it her dark hair? Her blue eyes? Maybe her bust. She had to admit that Selner was a little more endowed, but Claris had a slimmer shape and a shapelier ass. Maybe her uniform didn't flatter her as much as it used to. Did she accentuate her body too much? New designs and color schemes popped in her mind. Harry usually dressed himself in red and black.

Maybe he didn't like her boots. Utilitarian combat boots were all the fashion this season, but Harry never even peeked at them. Perhaps she should start wearing heels? Selner wore them too.. perhaps that attracted the boy. Or perhaps not. He never talked about his tastes in women. If only Harry was normal.

Then again, normal guys were boring.

"It's not your looks, you know."

Claris instantly drew her pistol and turned around to face the speaker. "You again."

The sad sight of Dr. Arnaud Rodriguez's insubstantial form hovered closer to Claris. "Oh just put the gun away already. You'll just scorch your room if you shoot."

"Don't you have anything better to do than violate a lady's privacy?" She spat, but put her gun back in her holster. "Besides, why do you care?"

"Why should I _not_ care? Obviously you are unhappy. I've observed you so many times gazing wistfully at the young captain, even going so far as to spy on him through the security feeds."

That brought a small bit of blush to the woman. "Maybe I should just ask Harry to confine you in the closet."

"Oh, he wouldn't." The ghost smirked then. "But if Selner asked him nicely, he might grant her a favor…"

The pirate let out a scream of rage. "Fuck you!" She grabbed a nearby flower vase and threw the entire ensemble at the ghost. The expensive artifact broke in pieces, spilling roses and nutrient fluids on the floor. Cleanbots streamed in from a gap in the wall and quickly cleaned up the mess, leaving hardly any trace behind of what had happened.

"That was not very lady-like."

"Fine." She let out as she hopped on her luxurious heart-shaped bed and leaned back. "Since you're not planning to go away any time soon, just go ahead and spill whatever dumb advice you're so eager to give me."

The ghost hovered over to her bed and sat next to her lying form, at least as best as he could manage. "I've spent weeks studying the captain, trying to figure out his weaknesses. I've seen him deal with your subtle attempts at seduction and I've seen him smile at Dr. Selner's comments. I've observed him watching the women around him like any other boy his age would do, but I've also seen him brush off even your most brazen suggestions. I think that after hundreds of hours, I pretty much have him figured out, at least on what kind of company he prefers."

"So will you tell me already you stupid ghost?"

"I have a name, you know. It's Arnaud."

"Okay, whatever. Just tell me already, Arnold."

The ghost sighed, but went on anyway. "This is just a hypothesis, so don't put too much stock in it. In essence, I believe that Harry is constantly pursuing of more power. That is why he always spends his time studying books and drawing arcane symbols. The repairs he performs on non-essential systems is a way for him to practice the rituals he recently memorized. If you go back to your security logs you will notice that he slowly becomes more efficient in the process, drawing circles and symbols faster than before while using up less blood at the same time. He is trying to ingrain the movements in his muscle memory so that he can draw them later when he is under pressure. So you see, everything he does has a reason and a result. His goal is to grow stronger each passing day."

"What about Selner? She's a pacifist. Spending time with that whiny bitch won't benefit him at all."

"On the contrary, Claris. Her work is essential to the well-being of the crew and the ship. Her part in extraction the crew's blood every standard day is vital in keeping the boy supplied with fresh blood. But that isn't all. There is one more reason why Harry enjoys Dr. Selner's company."

"And what is that?"

Arnaud raised his fist and clenched it in a symbolic gesture. "Her courage. Her defiance in standing up against Harry's cruelties. In short, her strength. Try to compare Selner's composure to yours. What does Harry think when he meets up with Selner? He sees her as a principled woman, someone who regards him as neither a threat nor a god. He knows that if he comes to visit her, that he can expect a deep and thought-provoking discussion, far away from the tiresome routines of running a ship."

"And me?" Claris whispered, almost dreading Arnaud's next words.

"You.. you are like a servant, one of many in his retinue. Sure, you may be closer to him than the rest of the crew, but ultimately you are still beneath him. He treats you like he would treat a favored pet. He rejects your seductions as he would stop a dog from licking his face. Your constant devotions to him such as calling him Master is somewhat bothersome to him. Any exaggerated title annoys him, actually. Do you understand my point?"

She did. As much as it hurt to learn the reasons of Harry's inattention, she couldn't deny the soundness of Arnaud's theory. Claris had been going about enticing Harry into her web in a very wrong way. Her fault was to assume that Harry would be a person ruled by his base desires. Someone who not only hungered for power, but also wished to show it off to the world. She offered herself to him as an ornament, an object he could be in complete control. Most men would relish having that sort of power over a gorgeous woman such as her. Harry though… Harry had different needs.

"I see you realize your mistakes." The shade spoke out. "Do not try to become his servant. Become his companion. Offer him something that he would appreciate, such as knowledge or something else that would put him further into the path to power. Don't come to him – let him come to you. As long as you remain interesting in his company, you will have plenty of chances. Despite his unnatural powers and his odd behavior, he is still a man in the end. I do not believe he is an extraterrestrial."

The advice was sound and would definitely help Claris put herself back in the race. But why was this ghost giving her this advice? If anything, he would have tried anything to spread lies and sow discontent amongst the crew.

"Why are you being so helpful? Are you trying to gain my favor?"

"Partly that. Partly because your survival is tied to the ship's survival." The ghost swept his arm around him, encompassing the entire ship. "I am bound in time and space to the _Eviscerator_. When the ship went to fight the Orion Constellations, I could feel every rupture, every burn and every loss of life. People died right in front of me, unable to even whisper me their last words. I saw desperation in everyone else who remained alive, trying so hard to save their ship. As specter I could do nothing to assist. It made me feel utterly helpless. My intangibility reduced me to incessant worry of my fate. I do not want to be stuck in empty space until the end of the universe. Believe it or not, Claris, but the survival of the ship is in my best interests. It is a fate no different than Selner's and Zhang's. In the end, we all serve Harry."

The ghost left her quarters, passing through the thick reinforced bulkhead as if it consisted of nothing but air. Arnaud's words had given her a lot of food for thought. She reflected on herself, trying to visualize her interactions with the wizard and how he responded to her advances. She saw now how painfully obvious Harry brushed her off, sometimes with the tiniest bit of contempt. The wizard had no need for cheap toys. He played a much bigger game. One in which he didn't want to involve his servants in. To enter the game, Claris needed to elevate herself to his level.

She needed to revert to her original personality and act like a queen.

* * *

No matter how rich, how powerful or how dastardly evil you were, you always had to have your accounts in order. It would be quite embarrassing to commission a superweapon and only come up short. Terry made sure that all the numbers added up and that no one would try to skim off some credits out of any transaction.

Performing this duty after the successful raid on the convoy proved to be a herculean task. Each cargo hauler contained up to forty-thousand tons of construction material and trade goods per hold. That made the total bounty up to two-hundred-thousand tons, although the real net total was a much less due to the removal and destruction of the Class IX beam laser and its power generator.

They didn't destroy the massive weapon components completely, of course. Harry had ordered his weapon experts to dismantle and extract the most valuable components, such as the reactor core, the containment shell, the high-grade focus lens, the heat resistant inner bore and other expensive parts. The rest of the parts were too common to bother or too toxic to handle. The _Eviscerator_'s guns smashed up the remaining trash.

All of the scavenged components along with the other cargo added up to an almost endless list of valuable and not-so-valuable goods that needed to be sold. While their convoy still had many millions of kilometers to go until they reached Trindebal Station, the solarnet travelled with the speed of light. He only had to deal with a small amount of time lag whenever he accessed the pirate station's local marketnet. Terry had to get rid of all the junk before they reached the station. Unsold goods had to be moved into warehouses, which cost credits, which reduced everyone's total payout. That meant that practically every pirate and even a few of her former science colleagues were pressing him on to maximize everyone's profit.

"Hey there Terry." Felicity greeted the working young man as she seated herself on the mess table opposite to him. Without any regard for modesty she immediately dug into her meal of carrots, mashed potatoes and sausages. "So how's it going? Any luck on the creds?"

The man's face grew irritable. People were bugging him constantly. "Not you too?"

"What? Isn't a girl allowed to know how well you're doing?"

"You hardly talked to me before we were roped into this pirate thing. You just want to know how much credits your share will be like everyone else."

"Okay, you got me." The blond shrugged. "But we're working together now as a team, so soften up with that attitude. After all, I'm the one who operates the main gun."

"Yeah yeah, everyone knows you're important and how Harry's lucky to have a former Solardyne engineer in his service, so stop lording it over us."

All signs of playfulness disappeared. "I'm trying to be nice here, Terry."

"Oh that's great coming from the mouth of a wannabe cutthroat. Haven't you read the pirate manual yet how you're not supposed to be nice to people?"

"Hey, pirates are people too. They're actually quite decent once they get over the fact that Harry whooped their asses."

"You're actually making friends with those murdering bastards?" Terry asked with accusation stinging in his voice. "They would have raped you if they had their way. You're crazy."

Fed up, the woman dropped her spork and sat up from her seat. If Terry didn't want her company, that was his choice. "I'm just making a new life for myself. You should come out of your shell and try it yourself. Even Selner is starting to open up. I heard she's having a great time talking with her wounded patients."

With that, Felicity took her tray and went towards another table. One occupied completely by the heartless pirate crew.

"Care if I join you guys and gals?"

"Sure, no problem sweet cheeks!"

Ignoring all the bantering, the quiet bookkeeper went back to work. He focused himself on finishing up the negotiations for a container load of hover modules. Just because he was doing Harry's whims didn't mean that he had resigned himself to his new fate. Despite all the wonders Harry could do, he was still a mortal. The captain drank, ate, slept and even went to the toilet like every other man. All Terry had to do was keep his head down and be patient. It might take months or years, but eventually the little bastard would slip up. And when he did, the unassuming bookkeeper would be waiting. With a weapon in hand.

* * *

The month long journey to the famed Trindebal Station finally reached an end. All the hours of drudgery and repair work ceased, leaving every crew member to revel in the debauchery that would await them on shore. And from the crowded traffic around them, they weren't the only ones waiting to enjoy the station's offerings.

Hundreds, perhaps up to a thousand other vessels coasted about under the massive station's mighty defenses. Most were fighters or corvettes, but there were also a few other mobile carriers like the Evie in the neighborhood. More imposing however were the impressive pirate fleets, owned and crewed by the most successful and bloodthirsty buccaneers this side of the universe. The largest fleet belonged to the same pirate gang that owned the station. The Callistoan Maffia guarded their valuable base with more than a little paranoia. Scores of corvettes lined up to incoming and outgoing visitors, scanning their cargo holds and making sure they weren't up to no good. Squadrons of frigates and mobile carriers patrolled the dockyards and piers to ensure no ship would power up their weapons and take a shot at the main station.

Even if that were to happen, the stations impressive armaments would slice up the offender before she could power up her weapons. Hundreds of point defense turrets dotted the cylinder-shaped construction, covering and double covering every single angle of approach. Larger triple-barreled turrets took care of any corvette and frigate class attackers. As for capital ships, the station had something special in mind.

Eight monstrous battleship-grade beam lasers were spread evenly along the station's surface, offering a wide angle of view in every direction. Just turning the frigate-sized turret required a power train strong enough to pull an asteroid from Jupiter's orbit. The single-barreled Class X weapon mounts were rated to vaporize entire battleships with just sixty seconds of constant focus. With millions of liters of coolant stored inside the station, the beam lasers did not even have to cut off power to swivel around and devastate another ship.

With that much firepower backing them up, the implications were clear: don't mess with the Callistoan Maffia.

Harry sat at his command chair for once, not because he felt like it, but because the station's inspectors expected him to be in charge. He had to handle tedious communiqués from half a dozen patrol corvettes, all demanding the same bribes before he could finally negotiate a berth at the station's dry dock.

Still, even after he finished all the administrative drudge, Harry basked his position of power as he stared at the closing station. The relatively tiny Vlessing Base paled in comparison to Trindebal Station. Docking at this station felt much like returning home. That he arrived bearing a convoy of captured transports added a triumphant sensation.

"Beautiful, isn't it, Claris?"

His second, who currently worked on a detailed repair report for the dry dock, smiled back as best she could without looking too eager at being addressed.

"That it is, captain."

The bridge fell back into silence once more until Terry finally finished his financial report. "Captain, the Frontier Bank finally confirmed our mission results. They just transferred the credits to your ship's account. The scrap yards have also received the five captured prizes and their cargo."

"Excellent." Harry grinned, and so did the rest of the crew. This single job had earned them a huge bounty in earnings, far more than the measly hundreds of thousands of credits Captain Hargrave pursued. "Forward me the summary, will you?"

The demure accountant did so after putting in the final updates. The screen in front of Harry lighted up, but since it was one of his private displays, no one could read off the numbers.

Still, from Harry's growing grin, the payout likely looked massive.

"Claris, please open up a ship-wide channel. Also put me in connection with the prize crews waiting on the station."

Everyone in his command received an audio and visual feed of the captain. Every display screen and every holoprojector lit up to provide the visuals. In that one, singular moment, the entire crew paid attention to Harry, and this time they not in fear for their lives.

"My crew." Harry began as he sat up to face the recorder fully. "Through your hard work and enduring will, we've accomplished a smashing raid against a convoy. No one could have beaten back the Orion Constellations and seize all five ships intact except for us. We have managed the impossible and returned triumphant with our booty. I'm sure you are all curious how much that affects your credit chits. Well, Terry has been kind enough to finalize our total earnings for this expedition. In short, our combined income from the commission and the sale of our captured prizes is over _thirty-five million credits_."

Thirty-five. Million. Credits.

The bridge soon erupted into wild hoops and cheers. Earning thirty-five million credits for a single job was a spectacular success. Heck, they could buy a fleet of corvettes or even another mobile carrier with that kind of money.

Not that each crewmen would be paid in millions. The captain would keep seventy-five percent of the share. The three officers under his command would divide the next ten percent among themselves. The remaining fifteen percent would be doled out to the remainder of the crew. A select few such as the medical officer, the pilots and the chiefs of several systems were entitled to double shares. The rest of the old pirate crew would receive full shares, while the new civilian crew would receive only half shares except for those who had proved themselves, such as Felicity and her two assistants.

Still, even for the lowliest of conscripts, their share of the spoils would total to about a hundred-and-seventy-five thousand credits. Hardly a pittance.

"Be proud of yourselves. You earned it. Along with the advancement of your shares, I'll grant you a full week of leave so you can spend all your hard-earned creds. Just don't spend them all on drink and whores. We're going to go on a lot more dangerous missions from now on, so buy a good set of gear for yourself. I expect you all to have a personal suit of boarding armor. Captain, out."

As the cheers finally died down, Harry turned to the less pleasant side of his victory. "Terry, please forward me the dry dock's proposal."

There was much to do in the next few days. The repairs and upgrades he requested would eat up valuable credits. Buying two new strike craft and crewing them with decent pilots would also eat a lot of credits. Finding a new job would take time as well, since there were few offers available that paid as much as the last one for a single vessel. Meanwhile, just staying at the station wasted more credits by having to pay exorbitant docking charges and other 'fees'. The longer you stayed, the more ways the station came up with excuses to siphon credits to their accounts. Many captains lost their ships this way.

"We're on final approach to the dry dock, sir." Nicholas called out. "The tugboat is latching on in three, two, one."

The ship bumped slightly as magnetic clamps held on to the nose of the _Eviscerator_.

"Main thrusters disengaged. Powering down reactor. All systems nominal."

"Good." Harry acknowledged, and sat up from his chair to leave the bridge. "Claris, please take over. I'll be in my cabin until we have finished docking. Please prepare a personal schedule for my approval."

"Yes, captain."

* * *

A festive mood ruled over the ship. Why wouldn't the crew be ecstatic? An average job under Captain Hargrave paid out only ten thousand credits or so for a full share. A week at the whorehouse sucked that all dry. Now, with the pay of their first job under Harry finally in their hands, they had enough credits to fuck a whore every day for half a year. Of course, with only a week's leave, they couldn't spend all that money in that time. So they planned to visit the most expensive courtesans who usually serviced captains and admirals.

Not everyone appreciated these open discussions. All the talk about sex only grated a certain individual.

"Ugh, how repulsing!" Dr. Selner let out as she dropped her own credit chit on her desk. "They've got enough money to start a business or buy an apartment, but instead they all let their crotches drive their spending patterns. Even I hadn't been that wild in my college days. Did you hear that Felicity is planning to hire five gigolos for three straight days? Can you imagine that! No wait, don't."

"To be fair, Lily, pirates usually don't live that long to enjoy their retirement." Zhang responded as he absently studied one of the vials of blue glowing liquids in her lab. Was it radioactive? "They're used to living by the moment. Besides, Harry won't release any of his men from his service this soon. What use is it to buy a business when you can't even work there?"

"They could, you know, invest or something. Make some side earnings."

"Trindebal doesn't work like that. There's so much cheating and extortion going on that only the big players can survive in the station's brutal property market. The best the crew can hope for is to buy an old corvette and start out as an independent, but Harry won't let them leave his service. So the crew spends their money in the only remaining way they can: pleasure."

The doctor looked away in disgust. "Are you going to follow the crew in their example? After all, with your obscene paycheck of like what, a million credits, you can probably hire out the entire brothel and turn it into your private mansion."

"An enticing notion, but I'm afraid my libido isn't what it used to be." The professor gestured at the medical equipment in the lab. "My pleasure runs differently. I think I'm going to spend it all to turn my quarters into my own private lab. Just because I'm the third-in-command doesn't mean I'm neglecting my academic duties. The entire ship is a treasure trove of research. If you're interested, you can even join in my studies of all the blood runes he's painted. There must be some inherent energy source that is powering all those metaphysical phenomena. If we can crack the secret, we can advance our society to a higher level. Wouldn't you like to be a part in that?"

"I'm interested." She admitted. "But not the same way as you. I'm not so hungry on academic recognition. I don't need to know how the universe is put together. I just want.."

Selner turned towards the glowing flesh-knitting fluid, isolated under a variety of contained environments to measure its effects. Of all the medicines she had worked with before, none were so amazing and incredibly opaque as these 'magic' potions. She refused to believe the potions were powered with something as fantastical as magic. There had to be a better explanation. Some new technology, perhaps.

But would she sacrifice all her principles to pursue this grandest of mysteries? How far was too far?

"I just want an end to our suffering."

* * *

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time and tugged at his collar. "Not another party. This retarded neon-blinking suit is suffocating me."

"You look fine, Captain. Don't worry, everyone wears the same thing."

Following Arnaud's advice, Claris tried her best to elevate herself from being Harry's servant. Her muted blue dress and pearly black shawl revealed much less cleavage than before. Only a fair portion of her back was exposed, showing off the contours of her skinny spine and shoulder blades. It was a subtle enough enticement to gain Harry's attention without appearing too desperate for his attention.

"Wasn't this event an optional thing? Do I really have to attend this boring dinner party?"

"Harry, there is far more to these social calls than a dance. Being invited into the Excelsior Club is a highly sought-after privilege. Only pirates who command larger ships or fleets are ever invited. Also, Hargrave used to have many connections here. Those rival pirates might resent your disposal of one of their own. You have to let your fellow captains to know you better in order to allay their suspicions. Besides, some of them might know a contact who can refer you to a high-paying job or an attractive target. This is all part of a regular pirate captain's duty."

The wizard would have preferred leaving a message, but alas, in the game of politics, you had to show your commitment. "If you say so."

Their chauffeured hovercar finally arrived at some tower located in the north ward of Trindebal Station, where all the other posh establishments were situated. After leaving a hefty tip for the driver, the pair disembarked and climbed the carpeted stairway to the imposing mansion-like entrance. Guards equipped in the same hypermodern armor of blue as back on Vlessing verified each guest's identity and equipment. No firearms were allowed inside. Curiously though, knives and collapsible crossbows were let through. How peculiar.

A uniformed servant with a much friendlier bearing than the guards greeted them graciously up the checkpoint. "Welcome, sir, madam. Invitation and ID chits please."

After the old butler-like servant passed the cubes through a machine, he handed them back to Claris before turning to address the newcomer.

"I bid you welcome to the Excelsior Club. Please enjoy your stay Captain Harry."

"Thanks."

To Harry's relief, the interior of the mansion-tower was nothing as extreme as Dolohov's little fantasy castle. While the style undoubtedly incorporated modern elements, it also hearkened back to an earlier age, one of refinement and sophistication. Warm colors, soft exoplanetary furs and the occasional touch of shipboard architecture dominated this classy establishment. A banker from London or New York would fit right home in this luxurious environment.

A gaggle of guests socialized in the reception lounge. About forty or so captains of different ethnicity and gender all swapped their latest stories or exchanged new pieces of gossip. One steely grandmother type – the equal of Margaret Thatcher, Harry mused – boasted how her asteroid pirate base earned a billion credits in revenue each standard year. Just the casual mention of that gigantic amount of credits stunned the boy. Harry felt very conscious of himself now. He might be a shark in the domain of his own ship, but in the confines of this club these killer whales could tear him apart.

"It's not so bad, Harry." Claris whispered softly to him. "There are only a handful of fleet captains here. The rest only possess a single ship or a few small corvettes."

They walked among the crowd, trying to mingle in, before a very imposing lady barged in between them. "My oh my, the _newcomer_ has finally arrived!"

The woman who spoke was blonde, tall, and _very _heavyset. Despite that, her bearing spoke of high stature. All the eyes in the room followed her movement in the crowd, knowing her opinions to be of great importance.

Putting on his best fake smile, he bowed slightly before the approaching lady. "A pleasure to meet you milady. May I have the honor to know your name?"

The big woman giggled. "What a lovely accent you have, my dear Harry. As for little old me, you may call me Madame Green. I am the official hostess for the Excelsior Club for this fine eve. It's my job to make you feel right at _home_ among our valued guests. If you have any request, don't hesitate to ask. I'm _always_ available for a young munchkin like you, captain. Ta-ta."

The whale of a woman lumbered off to approach another guest. Harry turned towards his escort, eyebrows raised.

"Madame Green is the third daughter of Admiral Black, who heads the Callistoan Maffia. She is very influential, though her siblings don't take her very seriously."

"Oh." Well that explained it. With all the weirdness going on since his awakening, this wasn't much of a surprise.

The pair went on to introduce themselves to the other captains and their escorts. Harry and Claris happened to be the rising stars in the pirate business at the moment, which earned them equal amounts of scorn and praise.

The crowd contained diverse personalities. Some acted as obnoxious as purebloods. Others looked like they just dragged themselves from Knockturn Alley. No two person behaved the same. One was a bored son of a corporate executive, another used to whore herself out before managing to marry into business. All had either made it this far due to luck, skill, or privilege. Their success stories were as varied as the blinking lights on Harry's costume.

The only thing the pirate captains had in common were their eyes. They all hawked at Harry like they were predators.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	13. I: Spare Change - Repost

April 12, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
**Censored Version**  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** I'm too lazy to rewrite scenes with explicit content, but I don't want to cut out huge chunks either. Readers will miss important context if I brutalize my fic that way. My proposed solution therefore is to cut just enough filth and change the wording so it becomes vague enough that minors don't have a clue what I'm talking about. It's not the most elegant solution, but it's something at least.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Spare Change_

* * *

One would think that criminals never worked together as a rule. Why should they? Their very nature suggested that they wereuntrustworthy at best, and highly opportunistic at most other times. It was not a far stretch to imagine another criminal would be at least as worse. Collaborations were bound only by trust and mutual benefit. Often times, individual gain trumped such deep friendships, allowing for some rather unpleasant betrayals to occur. Contracts were as good as useless for people who constantly broke the law every day. One could shoot another without any repercussion and take the spoils for himself.

Still, in practice, even the most violent pirates exercised some restraint. They already had enough enemies – no need to attract more when instead they could work together. Second, fellow pirates still adhered to their own version of an honor code. They wouldn't bat a finger against plunder, rape and murder, but betraying another pirate put you squarely in bad blood with the others. It might sound hypocritical, but an outlaw could get rid of a fellow pirate either honorably and a dishonorably. Take the dishonorable option, and you would find that even pirate stations would reject your presence.

For in the end, the craft of intrasolar piracy was a complex one, requiring both a significant amount of infrastructure and manpower to sustain. Without new recruits, a captain eventually ran out of crewmen. Without a repair yard, a ship fell apart. Without a brokerage network, a pirate had no way of selling their plunder. Piracy was a modern industry like any other, one deeply interconnected to the wider solar industry. Many independents worked in this industry, but large chunks were dominated by a handful of powerful groups.

A few representatives of those giants were present here this eve at the Excelsior Club, of which the most poignant one was Madame Green, a principal member of the Callistoan Maffia. The crime conglomerate's possession of the largest pirate space station in the immensely populated Jupiter sector made it the most successful crime group in the solar system. Its military forces could even challenge some of the smaller lunar colonies, while its defenses ensured that no major government would dare strike at its heart.

Such was the wealth of the Callistoan Maffia that it maintained its own extravagant Gravitic Catapult. It was for this reason alone that Harry needed to ingratiate himself with Madame Green. Sadly, his meager attempts at approaching the bombastically heavy woman proved less than effective. As soon as the novelty of his daring raid on the Orion Constellations wore off, the regal woman shifted her attention elsewhere.

"Oh, I would love to talk to you, but I have not seen Captain Gramonde in a year, so toodles!"

The minor snub was an uncomfortable reminder that he sat at the bottom of the food chain at this gathering. People not much older than him have accomplished ten times as much, and those who were old enough to be his parents were certainly out of his league. No matter how clownish or charming the pirates may act on the outside, their inner soul always reflected that of a ruthless killer. To walk among these predators required one to be familiar with the movements of their dance.

Harry, who hated the high life since the Ministry first began to mistreat him, felt very much out of his depth. It took all of Claris' guidance to keep him from blundering. When the progression moved into some sort of ballroom dance, it took all of her considerable patience to teach Harry not to step on her toes.

Fortunately, the classy dance had a passing resemblance to the waltz. That would have been fine except for the Dance Dance Revolution element incorporated into the activity. He hastily learnt how to match his steps with the colored symbols flickering on his partner's clothes. '_Whoever combined the waltz with a popular dancing game in the 21st century should have been shot in the head.'_

All went well for the past five minutes. Then, all the people's clothes flashed white.

"Wha–?"

Claris put her finger on Harry's lips. "Switch partners. No time to explain. Just let your partner lead and she'll do the rest."

And his partner slipped away before he knew it. While he dreaded to be left unpicked, a tall woman wearing a military-esque uniform snatched his hand and forcefully brought his body close to hers.

His partner's stern face indicated that she was doing anything but enjoying the dance. Her movements were stiff and wooden, dragging Harry's helpless body along for the ride. She never even gave Harry the opportunity to take the lead. This damaged a bit of his pride of a man.

"May I have the pleasure of -ugh-, knowing your name?"

Despite the woman's forceful countenance, she hit all the right steps in tune with their costume's flashing symbols. But her movements were functional and without grace, the opposite of a dance. Harry only wished she would let him catch up.

"Gloria. Of the _Mirrored Abyss_."

"Nice to meet you, I'm–"

"–Harry of the _Eviscerator_."

"Looks like you're already acquainted with me." He raised his eyebrows and tried to avoid looking like a fool. "Do we have any business?"

The female pirate grinned in a particularly vicious way. Before he could even ask, her hand left the place across his shoulder, using it to swiftly grasp her fist around Harry's jewels.

"You are weak." She intoned as she squeezed hard, earning a small yelp from Harry. Strangely enough, the intimate touch also aroused him. "Yet you managed to defeat Captain Hargrave. You could not have done it alone. Tell me who arranged his death."

"I'm nobody's puppet.."

The fierce woman stared into Harry's green eyes for several seconds. Her grin slowly faded away as if she saw something she didn't like. "You lie. I see no conviction, no willpower. You are a bug. A pest that needs to be squashed."

His babies were put under pressure again, but this time it seemed Gloria had no intention of easing her killer grip. Harry's shock made way to fear. What if this crazy bitch would actually go through with her threat? Would he live out the rest of his life as a eunuch?

'_Damnit! I've faced tougher opponents.'_

Anger flared into his mind as he suddenly took charge. Why did he turn all willy-nilly over a bunch of lowlife criminals? He took down a Dark Lord, killed countless of dark practitioners, fought against the entire Wizarding World and eventually brought it to its knees. This arrogant bitch couldn't hope to match his achievements.

The sack-squeezing woman barely had any warning of Harry's changing mood. One moment Gloria seemed set to crush the boy's pride in a pulp. The next, her victim somehow managed to shock her wrist with a hidden electrical weapon that overloaded her suit's protective measures, forcing her to release her hold. The attack made her lose her composure, but before she could collapse Harry clumsily picked up the dance and shoved her body against his own. His pole brushed her rear, sending an uncomfortable chill over her body. Harry exploited the woman's paralysis by wrapping his hand around her back and slowly pressing it downwards. His palm slipped through her dress pants and caressed her skin directly.

"You're not the only one who can play this game, bitch." Harry growled in Gloria's ear, and bit the ear lobe hard, purposefully drawing blood. "The question is, will you back off?"

Gloria tried to squirm out of his hold without making a scene. Her strength was formidable. If she hadn't endured a couple of thousands of volts, she would have been able to smack Harry down with ease.

His hand crept down her rear in hidden view until his index finger managed to caress her puckered rose. That brought the fiery woman's resistance to a screeching halt. This time it was Harry's job to make sure they wouldn't look out of place, although a few perceptive captains already suspected the truth.

"You.. you wouldn't dare." The female captain warned feebly, trying hard not to succumb to Harry's gentle teasing of her twitching exit. "I'll cut off your fruit and stuff them inside your mouth, you sick freak."

Smirking, Harry's tongue glided along Gloria's jaw line, earning a small shudder of revulsion from her as his finger began to spread out her tight opening. "For a woman who fondles other men for fun, that's a pretty funny statement."

Unknown to his victim, Harry's tongue trailed her cheek in such a way as to draw the blood from her ear wound into a small set of runes. The signs would be sloppy and not that effective, but the spell was simple and the tiny amount of power released would be more than enough for what he planned.

"I think you need a lesson on who you're dealing with." The wizard said ominously as he enacted his spell.

Without any warning, he shoved his finger deep inside Gloria and unleashed his magic. Tiny shivers of shocks rent over his finger, sending non-lethal but certainly excruciating levels of shock through her intestines and the rest of her organs. The shock and Harry's continued aggression pushed the alpha woman over her edge. Her shivering body pressed harshly against Harry's chest, delighting him with the contours of her chest. Her suit pants also started to soak in the liquids she was letting out.

Eventually, the woman just collapsed on Harry's shoulder, exhausted and defeated. Harry grinned as he waltzingly led her away from the middle of the dance room and towards one of the open balconies. The air outside was cold, and the station's light were purposely dimmed in order to portray the illusion of night time. Many other inner structures dotted the skyline, providing everyone up high a breathtaking view.

Not that Harry cared. He ripped his finger from Gloria's insides and turned her slack body around, letting her bend over the thick marble balcony rails. His hands lovingly groped and slapped Gloria's figure. Facing little resistance, he pulled down her clothes and brushed his fingers over her moist lips.

"You act all stiff and mighty, but you're really nothing but a whore who needs to learn her place."

His hands left the woman's body, but only to relieve his own clothes. His rapidly pulsing excitement was laid bare in the pseudo night. From the shaky movements she was trying to make, it looked like she was coming around. Her head turned, revealing the hatred filled in her eyes.

He slapped her as hard as he could, jolting the woman out of her killer mood. "There's no need to give me that look. It's bad for business, you know?"

"Fuck you…"

"I'd love to, but I can't. So I'll take this inviting body of yours instead.." He put his hands firmly on Gloria's lower body and spread her roughly apart.

Harry gave the woman one last chance to redeem herself. "Will you apologize?"

"Go to hell!"

"Suit yourself." And with great relish he slammed himself straight into her body. The earth-shattering shriek she let out was sure to penetrate the closed balcony doors and back inside the ballroom. Harry didn't care. If someone really objected to his actions, he would have been taken away by the guards already. To see her reduced to sobs and helpless cries was an enormous turn-on for Harry. How he missed destroying women. Especially those who wanted to harm him.

After applying a gracious amount of spit and other fluids, he proceeded to violate Gloria as hard as he could. The loud grunts and cries she let out were music to his ears and only encouraged Harry to maul her more brutally. He slapped her until her flesh was red, pulled her hair to add to the pain, and squeezed her wind pipe when she became a little too loud in her screams.

Somewhere along the torture, she regained enough control over her limbs to draw out a hidden knife.

"Oh no you won't." Harry warned as he snatched the blade away from Gloria's weak grip. He bashed her head with the pommel before throwing the weapon over the balcony. "No cheating."

"P-Please… let me go.."

For several minutes, he continued to beat the dark-haired lady into a stupor. He would go hard and fast, then slow and deep, then pause to jerk his hips around to see if she would grunt more in pain. Despite the violation, Gloria continued to leak like an open tap.

"What kind of a bitch would enjoy this except for a slut? Just admit that you're a whore who needs to be manhandled every day."

Gloria couldn't even articulate her words enough to respond. The only sounds leaving her breathless throat were grunts and cries that added to the wet slopping sound that echoed into the night. Harry slowed down his pace to lean over and mash his hands against the woman's covered body, kneading them and squeezing them like they were bread dough. He molested her with his hands, grasping her tightly in order to enjoy his possession over her body.

"God you're tight. Beats jerking off by myself." The sheer amount of stimulation that Harry received was actually a bit overwhelming after a millennia of nothing, except for Selner's treatment. "But don't kid yourself. You're not good enough to become my concubine."

He was almost done. Harry abandoned bruising her body. Instead he lifted her off the balcony and made her kneel down on the cold marble floor on all fours. Gripping her hips, he brutally slammed in and out in order to reach his peak. Both their clothing's electrical illuminators blinked out in synchronization, beating with the rhythm of Harry's thrusts.

Harry leaned over and roughly pulled Gloria's hair in order to see her face. Her erratic eyes were consumed in the overload of pain and climax she was suffering under. All signs of anger or rational thought had disappeared.

"Look at you. You're nothing but a bitch. I can't believe you're enjoying this. You really are a whore."

She didn't respond at all, even when Harry leaned in and sucked at her lolling tongue with his lips. He kissed her neck and took in her faint perfume. Like a dog he bit into her neck, drawing indentations that would not fade for a while. The intoxicating experience soon came to a close. Harry leaned back from her lowered body and increased his vigor, trying to reach the state he had been yearning so long.

"Fuck.. I'm.. there!"

He made a final slam that triggered his pleasure. His back arched back as he silently howled the ecstasy he was channeling from his release. His hands gripped the sides of her waist so hard that his nails raked her skin, drawing blood. Gloria was in a similar state, pushing out a hoarse cry from her throat as her entire body shuddered under the sensory bombardment.

Eventually, they both collapsed on the ground in sheer exhaustion. Harry took in the waves of bliss that radiated from Gloria's warm, soiled body. The woman herself was still dealing with the aftereffects of the climax.

With a mighty grunt Harry retracted himself.

Uncaring, Harry grasped Gloria's collar and pulled her painfully up to his waist. He rubbed her dazed face into his dirty body, cleaning himself with her cheeks and lips like her face was just a bath towel. His entire scent embedded in her skin. She would be sure to remember it, Harry thought as he chuckled darkly. The satisfied boy used the strands of his victim's hair to brush out the remaining gunk then looked at her empty eyes. He spat on it, adding yet another fluid to the collection smeared on her face.

Finally he released her lifeless body, smacking her body back onto the cold and uncaring floor. He zipped up his clothes and wiped his hands as best as he could. Looking down on the violated captain, he could think about nothing else than the satisfaction he received when he put this nut-crushing bitch back to her rightful place. Just because she was part of the Excelsior Club didn't mean that she had the right to abuse his body. The entire sight of her prone, sweat-soaked body was invigorating. The entire experience had fully returned Harry's confidence.

Smirking with the satisfaction that only came after a good romp, the boy absently retrieved a few credits worth of cubes from his pocket. Not a large amount, just enough to pay for a candy bar. He threw them over her ravaged body, soaking its plastic exterior with his fluids and her sweat.

"Keep the change."

And with that, he turned back inside to freshen himself up at the men's room. As he passed through the crowd of dancers, no one came to kick him out. With the kind of skeletons they kept in their closet, they had probably done worse. Despite its refined image, the club was still a den of thieves, murderers and rapists.

Harry finally felt right at home.

* * *

Recruitment posed more of a challenge than Cleveland had initially imagined. As a former grunt, he never really handled administrative duties like this. Before Harry came along, he only had to concern himself with following orders or shooting his targets. Chief Gerchev usually took care of all the paperwork that came after. Since Cleveland became the Chief of Security (solely due to his seniority), he found the responsibility considerably frustrating.

Luckily, Janis had considerably more experience in these matters. She proved invaluable in setting up the office down in the outer hub and putting up recruitment ads on the peoplenet.

The _Eviscerator_ never held a full crew. The low risks that Captain Hargrave undertook meant that combat losses were fairly rare, and only really happened among the pirate marines. The captain had little desire to crew the ship beyond the minimum amount required to run the ship by spec. Even Hargrave's sluggishness in filling up the two empty hangar slots marked his lack of urgency. More fighters meant more hangar crew. More hangar crew meant more maintenance costs.

But under their new, risk-taking captain, the current crew levels were wholly inadequate. With no redundancies, a single incident might take out a specialist responsible for complicated processes such as reactor maintenance or thruster operation. The distances involved with interplanetary trade and piracy meant that ships had to be away from civilization for as much as several months. If the ship fell into some sort of emergency, the odds were high that no one would be around to rescue them. Only the crew themselves could solve their own problems.

As a former semi-military police carrier, the Evie was well equipped to hold up to thrice the minimum amount of crew Hargrave employed. While having over a hundred crew on the captain's payroll would severely diminish everyone's share, the flexibility they gained would make up for it. First, they would be three times harder to board. They would also have more manpower on hand to board other ships. Second, any losses they would sustain would not deteriorate the performance of the ship until their casualty rates reached a certain threshold. Third, more crew meant less fatigue in running multiple jobs in succession, allowing them to earn more credits in less time.

The door snapped open, pulling Cleveland back to the present.

"Heya, is this the place to apply for a job on the _Eviscerator?_"

Cleveland nodded and gestured the sailor inside the Spartan office. The new entrant plopped down the offered seat like a sack of potatoes and leaned back on his chair like he owned the place. "So what's first, buddy?"

Frowning slightly, Cleveland wanted to give the man a piece of his mind, but Janis quickly shook her head behind the man's back. Most pirates didn't have very good manners, and most captains couldn't care any less. Captain Hargrave usually employed those showing at least a basic grasp of civilization, but he never had to scrape the bottom of the barrel.

"Let us start with your credentials, Mr..."

"Dirk."

"Mr. Dirk, then. Did the Trindebal employment office issue any certificates for you?"

"Ya, I got 'em right here." His hand reached into his pocket and retrieved a beer-stained pair of hardened sheets. He threw them down the desk like a Frisbee. "It's genuine, I swear."

"Hmm.." The chief took the time to examine the documents. "It says in your most recent appointments that you had three years of hangar deck duty. Then, you got snatched up by Captain Yerlin to become a… deckswabber?"

The rough-faced man simply shrugged. "Cap'n Yerlin calls anyone whose job is to supervise the deck when the chief's not there as a deckswabber. It means that I get to bash people's heads together and swab the deck with their bodies. Get it?"

Shuddering slightly, Cleveland returned the sheets and questioned the half-drunken man on his skills, behavior, and other stories from his previous berths. The man answered groggily and nonsensical, and sometimes even forgot why he came here in the first place. The chief wanted this interview to be over with as soon as possible.

"We'll take your offer under consideration. Please wait until tomorrow to hear whether you will be invited back. Thank you for your time."

"Anytime, buddy, anytime." The man rose from his seat and lumbered towards the exit. Then, he stopped in his tracks and turned around, his face full of curiosity. "Oh, by the way, I heard something really freaky from the dock rats repairing your ship. Says your captain's a real crazy sunovabitch who likes smearing blood over the walls and under everyone's bunks and shit."

"Our captain can be a little… eccentric. It is why he also demands permanent employment. Once you're in, you're in. You can try to get out, but it won't work."

Dirk smiled stupidly, as if his thoughts drifted to booze instead of employment. "Yah.. whatever.. it's not any different from joining the Callistoans or anything. I can handle that, especially with the salary and share you're offering. Man, my mates have to be crazy to pass on a job on your ship. Sweet money you guys are earning. Heard about you guys all day at the whorehouses. Anyway, see ya tomorrow, I gotta catch up with some bottles."

As Dirk left the office, Cleveland leaned forward and smacked his head against his desk. This was the sixth time a drunk came in. Only the really crazy or incompetent spacers bothered to apply for a position on the _Eviscerator_. Even among the most clueless of spacers, word of Captain Harry's insanity and draconian punishments had already leaked out. While the pay package he offered certainly dwarfed the bread crumbs other captains occasionally threw away, the fact that Harry demanded a lifetime contract didn't endear him very much to the independent-minded pirates.

They had no other choice. Harry's secrets were too sensitive to risk a leak. Everyone accepted into the ship would have to bear the same Mark that marred Cleveland's own arm. At least Harry wouldn't be deceiving them with false promises of retirement. Though the chief himself managed to adapt pretty well, he knew that some of Hargrave's old loyalists still resented being under Harry's thumb. What Harry and the Evie needed were fresh blood in order to diminish the share of unwilling crew. Pushed into a dwindling minority, the group of dissenters would eventually fade away into nothing.

But from the lazy dregs and scruffy scoundrels that had entered so far, Cleveland didn't feel very hopeful he would meet Harry's recruitment target.

The door opened again, and this time the Chief of Security did take note. The black-robed figure covered as much of his body as he could, leaving nothing that could even hint at his identity. The man took a quick glance around the entire room, and scanned anything that would pose a threat to him before seating himself on the chair without another word.

Somehow, the entire bearing of this man managed to overshadow Harry's own impressive aura of fear.

"Uhm.. Welcome to our recruiting office. Are you here to apply for a position on the _Eviscerator_?"

The man nodded minutely, and did nothing else. Cleveland let the silence linger uncomfortably for a moment before asking his credentials. The man retrieved some sheets and slapped them lightly on the desk, pushing them forward like he was handling a game piece. Wary of any traps, the recruiter took one good look at the innocent pieces of holoplastic before picking them up.

He saw nothing on the sheets but illegible code.

"Very funny. Are you here to apply or are you hear to pull my leg?"

The applicant curved his lips into a smile. "My name is Ether. I have been sent here."

"Sent by whom?"

The thickly clothed man leaned back and pressed the tips of his fingers together. His smile widened into a smirk as he noticed Cleveland's increasing discomfort.

"Tell your Captain Harry that I bear a message, and a gift from the one he knows as Star."

* * *

After using the self-cleaning function of his pants along with a liberal application of _Scourgify_, Harry left the toilet stall and went over to the sinks to wash away the remaining muck. Women's faces just didn't make for good cleaning tissue.

Another toilet flushed. The stall opened up to let out a cheerful looking man who looked to be in his thirties. The fellow captain strolled over to the sink next to Harry and began to wash his hands.

"Good show you put for us out there, kid."

Harry raised his eyebrow. The comment sounded remarkably laid-back. "You're not bothered?"

"Nah." The man huffed. "Captain Gloria does the crushing routine to every man who enters the club for the first time. Even I didn't escape her gentle handling. The bitch had it coming, I'm sure." He chuckled for a moment. "I just don't want to be in your shoes when she finally comes after you. She's a bit of a psychopath, you see. Her ship is an especially nasty piece of work."

"I've dealt with worse."

Finishing with his wash, Harry dried his hands with the highly advanced demoisterizing device.

The man followed after him. "That's the spirit. I like you already kid." He offered his hand. "I'm Captain Zymen of the _Swift Corsair_."

At least the limb seemed clean. Harry took it and shook it firmly. "You already know who I am, I see."

"That's right."

They chatted a bit about themselves and their ships as they made their way to the dining hall. Curiously, the _Swift Corsair_ was also a mobile carrier, but of a different make and design. She carried six birds instead of four like the Evie, but lacked a torpedo mount in return. The _Corsair_ was also a bit faster than the _Eviscerator_, but paid for it with a layer of armor.

After a minute of small chat they finally arrived at the sumptuous dining room. A single and absurdly long dining table sat in the middle of the room.

"Captain Harry." Claris greeted her captain flatly. "You took your time. Dinner has already begun without you."

"No matter." Harry remarked as he sat down on the seat next to her.

Zymen took the seat next to him and dug in eagerly on the lobster-like arrangement before him. "So Harry, I heard from someone who heard from another person that you're in the market for a big job."

The boy's ears perked up at that comment. Perhaps that was why Zymen stuck around to talk. "You're offering me a job?"

"Something like that." The man paused in his chewing and dipped his lips with a napkin. "Word has come by to me that a certain passenger liner carrying a very important diplomatic mission from Io will be departing in the very near future. Their objectives are to negotiate and sign a non-aggression pact with Europa to pave the way for further cooperation. I've been.. well, scoped out by a few interested parties in making sure those delegations never arrive at their destination."

"Wouldn't such an important deal between two of Jupiter's great powers be well-guarded?" Claris interjected, seeing the flaws before Harry realized them himself. "Any attacker would face at least a flotilla of destroyers."

"Ah, but you see, my dear, this liner won't carry such an obvious escort. The risk of an overwhelming attack by Ganymede and Callisto is too great if the convoy's route is known. The Ioans will be taking the covert options, sending sixteen different 15000-seat passenger liners along eight different routes at different departure times. Fifteen of them will be decoys, of course. The real one carrying the diplomatic and industrial delegations is still a bit of a mystery until the actual launch. In any case, my clients are fairly confident that they will find out which ship we should strike."

"And what if your client is too late?" Harry asked. He wasn't looking forward to wasting his time. "How can we be sure he actually knows the right answer at all?"

"To ensure our cooperation, he'll pay a quarter of the bounty upfront, with the rest advanced to our accounts after we have successfully dealt with the ship we are assigned to stop. It doesn't matter if it's a decoy in the end – we all get paid according contract agreement."

"Interesting. How much credits are we talking about?"

"Two hundred million for the diplomatic delegation, Fifty million for the industrial delegation. If our target turns to be just a decoy, we only get paid a hundred and fifty mil."

"That much?" Harry widened his eyes. "Just to kill a bunch of officials?"

The older captain didn't restrain his laugh. "Trillions of credits are at stake in mining rights and other business opportunities. I'm sure whoever's money we're lining our pockets with have hired many other pirates to take care of the decoys. A couple of them will doubtlessly fail, removing the need for our employers to pay them. What remains is just a pittance. To all these bigwigs, a couple of billion credits is spare change. Most conglomerates earn several million creds per second."

"But then… how do we know that our target is the real one? How are you sure the client will tell us the truth?"

"Don't worry, I asked them that myself. Our party is going to be the most heavily-armed one." Zymen smirked. "Regardless whether we nab the real people or not, as long as the two Ioan delegations don't arrive, the money is ours. That means if the other pirates are doing their jobs in eliminating the other liners, we all get our chump change. So it's really in our best interests to work together."

Harry frowned, not entirely sure if he understood the arrangement. "If you're being sent after only a single liner, why do you need me to accompany your ship?"

"Two reasons." The man answered readily. "First, if this is truly the genuine target and not a decoy, then we will likely face some sort of surprise to discourage at least a pair of corvettes. Small pirate attacks are sadly all too common. Many of the developed lunar colonies have therefore developed the habit of protecting their important assets with many hidden defenses. I would guess in our case that we will likely face a couple of escorts, perhaps a whole squadron, disguised as transports or other liners to keep with the facade. A bit too formidable for a pair of mobile carriers, but I've got some other pals who might be willing to pitch in. The payout isn't high for nothing, you know. Don't worry, I'll not include too many people, so your share will be substantial."

Claris followed up on that comment. "Will every partner get an equal share, or will it be divided by contribution or tonnage?"

"By tonnage. It's the fairest. If you just sit back and do absolutely nothing, you won't get a share, but that's obvious. Just keep in mind that our two ships will likely be one of the smaller players."

"I'm not doing anything less than forty mil." Harry responded firmly. He was confident he might be able to find other deals which could earn him that much. "As long as my share is equal or higher, I'm in, provided I can get more details on this job of yours soon."

"Deal." They both shook their hands.

After that, they both went back to their meal. They were on their fourth dish now, some jellified squid that smelled absolutely rancid to the wizard.

"One more question." Harry said as another stray thought entered his mind. "Why did you ask me in the first place? We don't know each other."

"Your actions speak louder than your words. What you did to the Orion Constellations tells me you're not afraid to take risks, and what you inflicted on Captain Gloria was nothing less than masterful. We need a heartless, immoral bastard like you. While I might know a few other captains, they're not.. how you say, into the 'dirty work' anymore. They think they've grown past the unpleasant side of piracy. Feh, the snobs."

"What do you mean by dirty work?"

"Oh, we're not just going to blow up that fifteen-thousand seat liner and be done with it. There's always a market for everything. You'd be crazy to throw away all that potential merchandise."

"You mean…"

"Indebted servitude, eternal thralldom, lifelong vassalage, permanent contracting, whatever you want to call it. To us, it's simply _slavery_. It's a very profitable business, I can assure you. With the high-quality passengers on that ship, we can sell the prettyheads to the brothels, the eggheads to the crime conglomerates and the muscleheads to the mines. We can dump the rest for human experimentation or some other whacky stuff that you don't want to find out. On top of that, there's probably some really classy people on that ship that would earn millions in ransom. We can easily make ten mil out of the liner alone, perhaps twenty mil if we're lucky with the ransom negotiation. So are you still in? I'll let you have first pick of the prettiest one. I already got plenty of slaves in my private pen."

Refuse a job that involved teaming up with a bunch of unstable pirates with no qualms about abusing, enslaving, and dooming to death a couple of thousand of innocent people for just a few extra million credits?

"Heck yeah I'm in."

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	14. I: Venus and Mars - Repost

April 14, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Censored Version  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Venus and Mars_

* * *

The mobile carrier class enjoyed a rich history among space faring nations. The concept was developed just after the First Terran-Martian War, the _Highwayman_-class mobile carrier provided the mainstay of Mars' power projection in the more distant perimeters of its sphere of influence, at least in the early days. With its high reactor capacity, admirable recycling efficiency and abundant fuel reserves, the class could operate independently to up to four years. Its light armament and complement of fighters easily disrupted enemy trade. Its small size and relatively low sophistication also allowed it to be produced en masse. Over time, the mobile carrier solidified itself as a cheap and versatile class that performed remarkably well in policing and raiding duties.

The class did suffer from a couple of drawbacks. For a ship the size of a frigate, it could never really stand up to real combat-purpose vessels of equivalent displacement. While mobile carriers were built to suppress, real frigates were built for battle. While the dedicated warships lacked a hangar bay to project their power over a long distance, anything within the range of their multiple Class VII guns could quickly be pounded into slag. Frigates usually also carried several missile mounts, providing even more flexibility in direct damage that a mobile carrier couldn't boast. There was no contest, usually. Only bombers could redeem the mobile carrier, but their hangar bays were too limited to carry enough of them.

Like the one currently resting inside the _Eviscerator_'s hangar bay.

"What is this?" Harry asked as he entered the recently repaired hangar bay together with Claris. "I didn't recall ordering a new fighter."

The sleek shape of the black low-profile bomber obscured its lethal purpose. Bombers were designed according two separate philosophies: as ordinance carriers or as armor penetrators. In the former role, bombers were decked out in thick layers of armor and carried a high amount of missiles. They were sluggish and would be hopeless against fighters, but could withstand point defense fire long enough to deliver their high explosive payload from a comfortable distance. In the latter case, bombers relied on speed and stealth instead of mass, carrying only relatively few amount of ordnance in order to retain their superior acceleration. They were all about hit-and-run attacks and needed to close in on their target at a very high speed to guide their kinetic bombs along the right trajectory.

One of these types of bombers hung in front of him right now, along with its pilot. The man, dressed conspicuously in black, smiled eerily at Harry's entrance. It looked like he didn't even mind being handcuffed or that two of Cleveland's security goons were keeping him targeted with their beam rifles.

Annoyed, Harry repeated his question. "What is that bomber doing there?"

"That," The stranger jerked his head. "Is a MarsMil manufactured Boshan-class accelerant bomber. It's the latest iteration of one of Mars' best military strike craft."

"And this thing is in my hangar bay because..?"

"A present from Star."

Harry stood silent for a moment, considering the man's words. There had to be a meaning to all of this. "Alright. Let's head to somewhere private."

The captain, Claris and the stranger all moved to a nearby office room. Harry ordered the handcuffs to be removed before dismissing the guards, seeing no serious risk in letting the man have some breathing room. If he tried anything funny, Harry and Claris both had their sidearms ready to intervene.

"So let's start with the beginning. Who are you, and why did Star send you here?"

"You may call me Ether. As for Star, she has been very satisfied with your performance, and wishes to employ you in a more regular capacity."

That didn't sound very reassuring to the captain.

"I don't work for anyone." Harry responded firmly. "I'm a free spirit, and I don't plan to stick around this region of space for long."

"You.. misunderstand. Star does not expect you to work in her retainer. We merely require you to do some jobs once in a while at any location you happen to be in. Our influence reaches every colony, so you will never be out of jobs. It is your choice whether you accept them or not, but the rewards are great if you choose to do so." Ether pulled the pair of encoded sheets from his pockets and put it in front of Harry. "Contained in these encrypted sheets is just a taste of what we can offer."

"Is your little bomber one of those rewards?"

"The bomber, along with myself, are gifts." The man smiled in vague amusement. "You are not required to provide any service for us both. The Boshan-class accelerant bomber is a very advanced craft that requires a specialized pilot to operate effectively. You won't find anyone else on this station who has experience with Mars-configured strike craft."

That should have sounded impressive, if Harry actually knew a thing or two about fighter craft. "I'm not really sure about you joining my crew. If you haven't already heard, I don't let any bum join my crew. I demand absolute obedience from each and every one of my crew members I have a feeling that I can't trust you the same way I can trust my men."

As he continued to smile in his unnerving manner, Ether raised his hand in a dismissing wave. "There is nothing to fear from my presence. Upon your acceptance, my ties with Star and her associates will be severed irrevocably. My loyalty will be yours to command. You may do with me as you wish."

Somehow, Ether's guarantee didn't sound very authentic. While this Mars designed bomber might be a very valuable contribution to his arsenal, he didn't want to deal with the complication of a roguish and headstrong pilot in his retinue. Despite all of Ether's promises and reassurances, he seemed anything but reliable. The magical Mark might go a long way into forcing his silence, but Harry was all too aware that the compulsions behind the spell were flawed and weak. Its true effectiveness could only be achieved if the bearer of the Mark believed himself to be constrained by the Mark's powers. In fact, it was the bearer's belief in the strength of the Mark that gave the bindings their strength in the first place. The more the victim feared Harry's power, the more the Mark tightened its grip. With Ether's calm and confident composure, Harry sensed that this person would be a tough not to crack. His easygoing mannerism clashed with the wizard's own considerable ego. There could be only one alpha male on this ship.

"Let me be frank, Ether." The captain began after he finally weighed his options. "You haven't convinced me of your sincerity very much. You see, on my ship, I don't care whether my men are the best in their fields or not. I only require them to be loyal and obedient. You don't seem to fit that bill."

At least Ether dropped his incessant smile for once. He tried a little harder to convince Harry. "If my words will not satisfy you, maybe my deeds can be of use. Give me an order and I will fulfill it, whether it is an order to kill someone or provide all the information I know about Star."

A tempting offer. Harry wasn't sure how deep Ether's relationship with Star went, but from the sound of it the connection must have been substantial. That Ether offered his knowledge so readily meant that his mistress had an ulterior motive. It might be that Star trusted Harry with this knowledge and wanted to forge a deeper partnership with him. Or, Star wanted to get rid of Ether and sacrificed him to Harry to appease his suspicious tendencies. Harry didn't know which one to believe.

But one additional factor complicated this equation. Harry didn't care a fuck about Star, Ether or the fancy bomber for that matter.

"Very well then Ether. If you want me to test you, I'll test you alright." Harry then proceeded to lean back on his comfy chair and hauled his booted feet onto the surface of the desk. He untied the laces and removed the boots from his feet. His socks followed quickly after, baring his feet in all its odorous glory.

"I've been having a very long day today walking around and meeting all kinds of salesmen and bureaucrats. I think my feet could use some refreshment."

Ether's cheerful face was mildly confused at the sight of Harry's bare soles. "My pardon?"

"It means," Harry said ominously. "That you are supposed to come to my side of the desk, kneel before me, take my smelly feet and lick it all clean and proper with that sharp tongue of yours."

The dark-clothed man stayed mute for a very long moment. His eyes never strayed from Harry's brazenly exposed limbs. Drops of sweat trickled down from Harry's toes. Eventually Ether finished his deliberation and broke his silence.

"My apologies, but your request is undignified and possibly illegal. I would rather not comply to any vulgar requests."

That didn't make the captain very happy. _'Illegal? Don't make me laugh.'_ If Ether refused to follow even the most trivial orders, then Harry didn't command his total obedience. Even more galling was the fact that Ether himself defined the limits of his cooperation. Harry did not want his crew to develop _too_ much initiative.

The wizard's eyes kept staring into Ether's own prideful gaze as he issued his next command. "Claris. Will you please show my guest how things are done on my ship?"

The Second seemed not to comprehend, but then her eyes widened slightly as his actual meaning set in. With a rather nervous demeanor she went to kneel in front of Harry, took one of his open feet in her hands and slowly extended it towards her face.

As soon as her first lick trailed his sensitive heel, Harry fell into a trance. For some reason, the degrading nature of the act and Harry's obvious pleasure enthused his subordinate, encouraging her to expand her ministrations. She knead his knotted muscles with her supple palms and began to kiss his toes one by one, making sure that every kiss was wet. When she finally withdrew her mouth from his pinky toe, Claris went back to his larger toe and brushed the tip of her tongue under his toenail, eliciting a slight moan from the boy. The woman finally engulfed the toe completely within the cavity of her mouth. Her warm mouth sucked the digit long and hard. Her flexible tongue pampered it with gentle lashes.

It was like sucking his manhood.

"You see, Mr. Ether." The boy said in a low, pleasured voice as he held out his other foot to his servant to receive the same treatment. "Dignity has no place on my ship. When I said that I demanded obedience from my minions, I meant _absolute_ obedience. You don't get to dictate which orders to ignore. You'll follow all of my orders or you'll follow none. Since you have proven to be incapable of holding my trust, you can just get the fuck out of my face. Take your friggin' bomber and encoded shit with you."

Only Claris' slurping sounds were audible in the room as Ether stood up to pick up his digitized sheets and silently make his way out of the office. Harry leaned further back in the chair and withdrew his slimy feet from Claris' sexy mouth, jerking it from Claris' firm grip.

"That's enough, Claris. Sorry about all that. I just needed to drive into Ether's thick skull that I have no need for big egos on my ship. Star's gift was more than a burden than a help to me. With all the plans I have in my mind, I don't have the time to watch Ether's moves. This was just the most convenient option to drive him away."

"Harry.. I don't mind. I can continue if you wish."

"No need." Harry waved her away as he withdrew a handkerchief to dry off his spit-polished feet. "I don't want to strain your opinion of me. You're a good and loyal servant, and you've done a good job running the ship for me so far. I would have been lost without you."

"But-"

"No buts." The boy stated firmly as he stood up and shifted his pants to accommodate his stiffened cock. Claris' performance had given him a massive hard-on that he needed to blow off quickly. "In any case, please ensure that both Ether and that overhyped bomber are gone from my ship by noon. I'll be relaxing in my quarters."

"Yes.. captain."

Claris continued to gaze at Harry's retreating form with more than a little longing, though the tinges of revulsion stuck. Unlike other forceful personalities, Harry wielded his presence with poise. Her captain's strength and dominance aroused her, and not just lust for power. The man in the form of a boy slowly grew on her on a deeper level. Lately, the pirate lieutenant felt that their relationship had developed in areas past a purely business relationship.

Why did Harry affect her so much? She found it difficult to describe the sensation. The boy seemed to possess a measure of greatness in his personality. The captain was precise, absolute, and efficient. His actions were ruthless and unrestrained, but that only added to his prominence. Sometimes he could be so inhuman that no one believed he was capable of love.

At other times, he shed his shell of outward indifference and revealed a few slivers of affection. This gentler side of his was, she guessed, a remnant of his childhood, a period in his indiscernible past when he still knew some measure of piece.

In actuality, two different Harry's occupied the same body. One exerted dominance and put everything aside except for his own gain. The other behaved affectionately and had the capacity to care for others. Each Harry alone were unsuitable to Claris. The power-hungry side of Harry would use her up and discard her like trash as soon as he found a more amusing toy. The caring Harry was too passive and be eventually eliminated by his more unscrupulous rivals. Both were needed in order to make him strong but prevent him from becoming a monster. For better or worse, Claris needed to find a way to balance these two personalities out, or be destroyed in the backlash.

This would be a difficult challenge. It was clear that she couldn't attract Harry in the way she wanted if she appealed to only his softer side. In order to grab his attention, satisfy his needs, and bind him to her, Claris needed to show a similar penchant for cruelty. If Gloria was able to provoke Harry into having sex with her, perhaps Claris could too. She just had to take it slow.

* * *

In the coming weeks, the repair work patched the ship back together. With all the basic structural mending done and all the upgrades and replenishment finished, only one remaining issue dogged the ship: recruitment. While there was plenty of interest, few dared to apply, and those who did were either too stupid or too desperate to serve on any other ship. The lack of highly skilled applicants distressed Claris and the rest of the command crew. With just a little over thirty spacers under his command, none of them could lift the _Eviscerator_ to her full potential.

Time was running out. Captain Zymen of the _Swift Corsair_ had already sent them a message that he had two frigate captains on board with his plan. The slaver pirate needed one additional ship to complete the party. If Harry couldn't get his ship fully crewed by that time, he either had to turn down the job or sail out with minimum capacity. Either option were disastrous.

"Look." Harry began as he held the attention of the command crew. "We'll just pick the applicants who have at least basic competencies in their specializations. I'd rather have some guy with drinking problems but able to get the job done, over a perfect Pete who doesn't know which end of a wrench to use. If they have any attitude problems, then I'll probably be able to drill the insubordination out of them."

Everyone knew how serious Harry could be with discipline problems. Yet not everyone was convinced.

"Captain, even if we pick the handful of those with actual certifications, we won't be able to fill up the ship with them alone." Cleveland typed something on his datapad, and a three-dimensional schematic of the ship appeared. Several sections were color-coded to show current levels of crew allotment.

"We have enough operators for the weapon mounts and environmentals. Our hangar crew will need some bolstering, especially if we manage to obtain two additional fighters, but we're not critical in that department. Where we're really hurting is engineering and combat boarding."

"Why are we having trouble with those two departments?"

"Well, engineering isn't something you can pick up easily like environmentals or turret operation. You actually need to study the theory, become proficient enough to calculate a lot of equations on the fly, and be up to date to all the engine and reactor designs. It's a real bitch to learn, and most pirates don't bother. As for boarding, well, everyone knows it's got the highest casualty rate of all the departments. Marine combat is not that popular… unless you plan to offer to modify the boarders' armaments like you did with the First Squad."

"I can't." Harry responded with the same answer he gave Cleveland a week earlier. "I'm running out of reagents. Unless I'm able to access my stash on Earth, I won't be artificing any new equipment. The best I can offer is to use blood rituals to add some minor enchantments. It's probably for the best. After all, didn't you say that having too many weapons above Class I in an engagement would be a recipe for disaster?"

"..That is true." The chief conceded. "But without being able to offer Class III armaments, I won't be able to attract any more men than what I've currently got using your original offers. People don't know you that well, and the few rumors they've heard are rather disturbing."

"Hmm.."

Cleveland had a point, but nobody could do anything about it. All the snippets of opinions he read on the local online bulletin boards were predominately embellished accounts of Harry's actions. The anonymous reports were scathing in his ability to command. They painted him as a juvenile barbarian who raped anything on sight. Even with the usual dose of skepticism, the pirates had no reason to discount the heart of the rumors. With many hundreds of other corvettes and scores of larger ships to apply for, the pirates had plenty of alternatives on hand for a new posting. Despite the size of Trindebal Station's job market, it wouldn't be of any use if the spacers remained skittish.

Harry had little choice left. The Evie needed more manpower, and she would get it one way or another. If not voluntarily, then by other means.

"Perhaps it's time we start considering indentured servants."

* * *

When Lilliane Selner heard that Harry intended to fill the gaps in the crew allotment with slaves, she dropped all her work and formulated a quick plan to influence his decision. Only after she thoroughly discussed several options with Arnaud did she venture out of the medical bay to confront the captain. She knew it was futile to change Harry's mind. He needed manpower and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Instead, she would try to convince Harry to make herself in charge of the selection of slaves in the crew.

"I can see why you would care so much, but I'm not running a charity here." Harry responded stoically as he continued to browse one of his spellbooks. "I need men and women who can do their work well. I have no room for pity cases and free riders here."

She expected this argument. "If you can provide me with a list of desired positions and skills, I will try to select the most suitable candidates from those constraints."

"An interesting proposal, but I am not that confident in your staffing decisions. I have a feeling you will place a higher importance over _other_ criteria than the ones that I actually care about. You don't seem like the person who has any experience in staffing warships."

These were all valid objections, but Selner possessed enough negotiating experience to recognize there was something more at stake than just her objectivity. For a ruthless pirate, Harry could also be very subtle.

"..You want something in return, do you, Harry?"

His lips curled slightly as he nodded. "You're asking a substantial favor here from me, doctor. The least you can do is offer one in return."

She was afraid of this. After having spent several months under his thumb, Selner had developed a measure of understanding in Harry's behavior. Her discussions with Arnaud had been especially enlightening, as the ghost was the only person on the ship to catch glimpses of the captain's most private moments. The insights she gained from their talks were useful, but not very hopeful.

In order to alter their path towards ruin and damnation, Selner was prepared to sacrifice whatever remaining dignity she had left. She had thought long and hard about her plan. With the ability to shape over half of the new crew, the doctor would be in a position to dictate Harry's environment. The current crew of unscrupulous pirates was steadily deteriorating Harry's already unbalanced morals. If he were to fall completely into the abyss, there might be nothing more in the solar system that could withstand his capacity for destruction. By surrounding the captain with more composed adults, she might nudge the boy into a more harmonious outlook in life.

The medical officer was well aware she wouldn't be doing a favor to the slaves she might select to serve on the Evie. Sure, they probably had worse fates in store. However, by forcing them to work on Harry's sufferance, he could force them to commit horrible crimes upon other innocents. This was a terrible fate to bestow upon a pure and unstained soul. Lily could only hope that these slaves eventually saw the merit in her decision. If she had to sacrifice her dignity to put Harry back on the right track, then she gladly paid the price. The least she could do was to atone for her sins.

Determined to convince the captain, Selner steeled herself and revealed her offer. "I will let you do anything you want with me. Willingly."

The boy didn't show any reaction. "Perhaps you are misunderstanding our current relationship. I already own your body. I already command your obedience. Your desires mean nothing to me."

"Are you certain?" She spoke, putting a little hint of sensuality in her tone. Just because she abhorred the awful hedonism among the crew didn't mean she had always been a total bookworm. Selner continued with her feminine persuasion. "Some pleasures cannot be gained when forced."

It seemed her total change in personality had finally caught Harry's interest.

With a gentle grip, she lifted Harry's hands away from his reading and shoved the stuffy book aside. Selner lifted her body and seated herself on the side of the table. She had deliberately chosen to wear a tighter and thinner lab coat for this meeting, one which deliciously emphasized her curves. With a pleasant enough smile, she parted a button to reveal the red undershirt clinging to her bust. Though the gap did not yet reveal her cleavage, the way the tight garment hugged her chest proved to be alluring by itself. Her hands glided over her curves, almost but not quite touching them. Her motions exciting Harry just enough for him to visualize their supple shape. The doctor slowly arced her torso forward like a snake.

"There's no need to call me in at night." Selner stated with a tone that _oozed_ sexuality. "I'll move in to your quarters and sleep in your bed. You'll be able to take me whenever you want."

One of her stiletto heels glided up Harry's legs, caressing the strong and lean muscles underneath the folds of his battle robes. Her short black pencil skirt parted upwards. They revealed her tight glossy stockings, which showed all the delicious contours of her slim long legs. Harry's eyes were drawn to the narrow tip of her heels, which teasingly inched closer and closer to the visible tent in his pants. But just when the tip of her foot was touching the clothed rod, she drew back.

The disappointment and frustration of being denied further fueled Harry's passion. His breath had quickened up. His hands were twitching, probably wanting to grab Selner and release the intense pressure of his lust immediately. He held himself back from enacting his desires… which Selner took as a good sign.

"I'll comfort you. I'll listen to you. Whatever is weighing you down, I'll be there to ease your burdens."

Selner slipped off the desk and slinked down to her knees in front of the stupefied captain. One of her hands brushed at his ankle and squeezed the course magical fabric. The other hand soon administered the same massage to his other ankle. Leaning forward, she let her head rest against Harry's inner thigh. Her head thrust forward slowly, ending only a finger's breath away from the aching erection in front of her. Her tongue extended, and with a trail of spit falling from the tip, licked the empty air just in front of the covered shaft. When her mouth ended at the top, she leaned forward again and let her teeth clack against the buckle against his belt. She took the bit in her mouth and tugged at it, seeming eager to get the obstacle out of the way.

Harry hesitantly complied, lowering his hands to unbuckle his belt. Before he could go on, Selner pushed back his hands with her head and used all of her precision skills to unbutton the top of his pants using only her mouth and teeth. With a seductive smile she swayed her body as if she was a tiger about to pounce her prey. Enjoying a commanding view of Selner's slim back and luscious behind, Harry felt increasingly attracted to this new and _sexy_ subordinate. The sexual anticipation drove him to a level of arousal he had not experienced before. Even his long-dead wife couldn't reach this same level of passion.

Keeping an intense stare on Harry's green orbs, Selner's teeth latched onto his dragon bone zipper and pulled it down with a gentle tug.

Harry's pants soon pooled down until they reached his ankles. The doctor removed his boots and pulled the pants off completely. She dragged his boxers with it, leaving the bottom half of his body bare.

"I'll do anything for you, Harry, even the things you're too ashamed to ask."

The doctor pulled back from her close proximity to his excitement, denying the boy his relief. She raised her head to look into Harry's lust-filled eyes. Putting up a show, she extended her tongue and licked her lipstick-colored lips. The moisture enhanced the color of her mouth and promised many pleasures yet to come.

"I'll do things to you that you would never experience by using force." The sensual woman said emphatically. "Love and sex go together. To experience one without the other is to live an empty life."

When Harry tried to force her head into his body, the woman held on. She didn't resist too rigidly, but just enough for him to take note. "You may own my body, but you cannot demand my love. If you force me, then you will experience only a shadow of the pleasure I can give you. If you want _all _of me, then you must make me love you in return."

"How can I do that?"

"Do you love me, Harry?"

Pushed on by his aching needs, Harry hissed with a resplendent "Yes."

"Do you _want_ me to love you?"

"More than almost anything else, my love."

Smiling, Selner finally dove in and rewarded Harry's small concession with unparalleled ecstasy. The doctor was glad she coated her tongue with anti-bacterial and taste numbing solutions before she engaged in pleasuring Harry.

The next hour was filled with the most sensual and pleasurable acts that Harry had ever enjoyed in his long life. All the rapes he had inflicted upon the terrified witches in his distant past couldn't compare to Selner's wonderful foreplay. She reintroduced him in the game of give and take. Her apparent sincerity in her love to him spurred the boy to return the favor. It was the first instance in a very long time that Harry actually concerned himself of his partner's enjoyment. He wanted to love her back and prove that he could be worthy of her devotion, however fake it might be under the facade.

A small part of Harry's mind acknowledged her ulterior motives. Knowing that, he didn't mind very much that she tried to manipulate him in this way. What she demanded in return never went against his own interests. He would gladly toss her a few scraps of power if it meant enjoying her love and her incredible talents.

Love was a powerful emotion. Love was what defeated Voldemort, and allowed Harry to experience paradise with his wife until hate had taken her away. He never really recovered from that soul-tearing loss.

Despite his affirmations of love, Harry could never see Dr. Selner as his wife. But as his concubine, she could fill the holes that have scarred his soul since his beloved's murder.

The lovemaking wasn't really needed, actually, but it made their relationship much more heated and intense. Twisted though it was, this form of passionate affection provided a convenient vehicle for Harry to forget his regrets. For once, Harry let a woman take charge. Selner confidently stepped in the role of director, dictating the stance and pace at which they moved. She moved him to his bed in order to free up their bodies for more varied acts of pleasure. She denied him his quick release, but he didn't mind. Their slow and sensual pace spread out their gratification, but made it all the more memorable. When Harry seemed close to release, Selner pulled back and let his excited erection cool off as she indulged Harry's body with her soft and sizable breasts.

When her tactics of continued deflection finally reached Harry's limit, she lowered herself to finish him off with her head. The hygiene risks were mitigated by her preparation, but no drug could ever make a female grow to like the disgusting white fluid.

With the fate of fifty imprisoned slaves riding on her outcome, she focused on providing the captain with the most wonderful orgasm he could ever experience with a devoted woman's mouth.

The afterglow Harry enjoyed as the two cuddled up on his bed felt like a piece of Nirvana had dawned upon them. The sensation couldn't compare to the time he climaxed over Captain Gloria. Conquering Gloria was an accomplishment. Making love with Selner was fulfillment.

Thereafter, Selner made good on her promise and relocated her meager possessions in Harry's roomy quarters. The luxurious king-sized bed held plenty of space to allow them to sleep in peace. While all the blood runes and magical circles were unnerving to her, she was not about to ruin her goodwill by complaining about them. For just a little piece of her dignity, she could ensure she would have Harry's ear.

Afterwards, when Harry stepped off the ship, Selner would cry to herself, lamenting her loss of purity. Was she becoming more like the vicious pirates around her, having resorted to whoring out her body to achieve her goals? She rationalized her decision by telling herself that Harry would grow worse without her intervention. But did she really believe in that excuse? How much power did love have for a boy who seemed inhuman in his obsession to gain more power? Would love ever have precedence over might?

Selner didn't know the answers. She could only continue in her chosen course for the greater good.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	15. I: Human Resource Management - Repost

April 16, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Human Resource Management_

* * *

The array of runes and ritual circles glowed silently in their eternal vigil. Their creator slept in peace besides his chosen consort. It was the first morning of their shared sleep together. Throughout the night, Lilliane let the boy lie peacefully atop her chest. Though the awkward pressure barely allowed her to fall asleep herself, she gladly endured it if it made Harry happy. When it was almost time to rise, she decided to give the boy a welcome wake up She gently let Harry's head rest on his pillows, then slipped her body down so that her head would come up to his waist.

Dr. Selner then proceeded to practice her considerable oral talents.

When Harry finally woke up, he made his sheer delight known and smiled at the munching woman. Selner invigorated her efforts and finished his morning climax.

"Man… a guy could get used to this every day.."

"Oh, I hope not, Harry." Selner smiled besides him as she pressed herself against his relaxing side. "Wouldn't you grow tired of me then?"

The boy chuckled a little and leaned in to steal a kiss. "I'll never grow tired of you, dove."

Both of them enjoyed the comfort of lying against each other. Harry really missed this blissful sensation. He faintly remembered the total satisfaction at waking up from a peaceful night with his beloved wife in his arms. Life had been perfect at that time. All the burdens in his life had failed to overcome his steadfast love for his friends. When Voldemort's specter finally moved on to the afterlife, there was no need to have his guard up all the time. After all, the Light had won, right?

How naïve he was at that time.

"What's the matter, Harry?"

"Nothing. Just reminiscing." The boy turned to look at Selner with a needful eye. "Merlin, you remind me so much of her."

"Pardon?"

The boy smiled sadly. "Nothing.."

Their silence stretched on as they continued to cuddle. For Harry, the small trip back to the past reminded him that he needed to remain vigilant. It would be foolish to let down his guard in this dangerous era. So many people who depended on his strength had died when he disappointed them. If only he hadn't been so delusional about how Voldemort's death would mark the end of everything evil. With this second chance, Harry resolved to never allow himself to grow soft and weak. This new and avaricious society was just as bad as the Wizarding World with their strange new technologies. Predators roamed in every corner, waiting to strike the weak and unprotected. While the wizard could defend himself with adequate ease, the same might not be true for Selner. Now that he had his first taste of affection, he could never bear leaving her unprotected. He would readily kill thousands if it meant preserving her life.

"Selner, I don't want you out there wandering alone at the slave market. Who knows what all those horny slavers will do to you."

"Just assign a guard to accompany me. I'm sure one of Cleveland's goons could keep me safe."

Harry didn't look very reassured. "Their Class III rifles are rather attention-grabbing. I'd have to deploy the entire First Squad in order to keep you safe, but I've already assigned them to procure more infantry armaments."

"Your foot soldiers don't necessarily have to bring those rifles along. I'm sure they can carry something more conspicuous."

"Maybe.. Cleveland said that his men were rather attached to their new weapons. I don't know, really. I'll ask him for advice. Hopefully he can pull a man off his team to assist you in your selections. All those descriptions of duties, certifications and other qualifications make me dizzy."

"Don't trouble yourself over it. I'm a doctor, remember. I'm a quick study. Just the list with all the requirements is enough for me to figure out what to look out for. You'll get your crew."

Though Harry still felt ill at ease, Selner leaned up and kissed him long and hard, shoving the issue from his mind. A little pleasure before business didn't hurt, especially when those two lovely globes of hers were gliding tantalizingly closer to his steadily rejuvenating organ.

* * *

The bedroom was the most magnificent space in the entire citadel. Delicate glass of the highest quality made up every barrier in the chamber, allowing for complete transparency. Nothing remained hidden. The closets, the chairs, the doors, even the bathroom were completely see-through. The bed itself was no exception. Modern complex diamond layering produced the most exquisite of transparent fabrics ever known to man. Made according to the most enhanced computerized designs, the mattress, comforter and pillows were guaranteed to provide any person with the most efficient recovery cycle. Many executives used the nontransparent version to sleep as little as possible.

But not this time.

Pierre Antoine Dolohov for once didn't wear one of his trademark eccentric outfits. He wasn't wearing anything at all actually. Taking another sip of his transparent liquor, he contemplated the insights he had gained since he first beheld a sample of his opportune discovery. What incredible wonders still lay unexplored in the vastness of space.

When he bought the _Helical Visage_ from the junkyard, he only intended to secure its records and piece together the battle where Captain Hargrave fell. With the most state-of-the-art forensic tools, his team of mercenaries combed through the science vessel with the proverbial fine-toothed comb. While the pirates were skilled enough to destroy all recorders and data units and clean up any compromising materials, they hadn't taken something as ubiquitous as the air circulation system into account.

Modern ships were living, breathing ecosystems. They boasted a very sophisticated set of air, water and temperature circulation units. Fresh air itself was one of the simpler substances to sustain on a ship. In the early days of space travel, ships carried large segments of plant life to replenish the air breathed out by the crew. While natural, the process was slow and inefficient. The cumbersome bioponics modules considerably held back the rush to explore the solar system. Only after the invention of a special type of electrosynthesizers did air recycling become cheap and affordable. Unlike trees and plants, the liquid electrosynthesizer packs were small, portable and used electricity instead of light as its energy source. Best of all, the packs were just packs, not living and breathing organisms, so ships had no need to do all the careful gardening required to keep a biodome flourishing. Spacers never did turn out to be great gardeners.

On a civilian starship such as the _Helical Visage_, a single ventilation network connected to all the areas on the ship circulated the air in one great cycle. This path began and ended at the environmental compartment, where all the air, water and temperature regulators were located. A modest filter pack of electrosynths made sure that all the depleted air would pass through its pores and revive the depleted air's oxygen content to an optimal human standard. Normally, these filters were just large enough to pass through only the essential elements of air. Anything bigger such as smoke particles clogged up the filter and needed to be regularly scrubbed by a technician.

Captain Harry's diligent pirates had neglected to do so when they turned the ship over to the junk yard. Though most of the particles stuck in the filters were useless, the small handful of strange blue grains that were found turned out to have extremely exotic properties.

Pierre's hand reached over to his counter and retrieved the fine plastic bag containing half of the dust in his possession. Enough to fill a salt shaker, but not much more. "So little, yet so charmingly fascinating."

"Hmm?" Another voice murmured under the transparent covers besides Pierre. A distinctive blond head turned to face the man. "Could you please hand over the substance now? I do believe that I have adequately satisfied your demands."

"Ah, yes, a deal is a deal." The governor said cheerfully as he plopped the bag in front of Star's covered (but still visible) body. Her attractively exposed torso shifted underneath the covers as she took the bag to examine its contents under the light.

"It's real." Pierre reassured his bedmate. "I wouldn't dare cheat on one of my esteemed guests."

As it should be. "This amount is inadequate. There is too little to perform any rigorous tests on this sample."

"That is all that my men were able to scrape out. A few other milligrams have been wiped from various corners and crevices in the laboratory, but there is truly nothing more."

What was this substance? Which asteroid did it come from? Many of her fellow associates had been dispatched to the approximate region of space where the research vessel first detected the strange signal in their sensors. While the _Visage_ transmitted her data logs to a local Exploration Society outpost, their readings didn't lead to any results. The only source left to solve this puzzle was Captain Harry and the surviving researchers of the _Helical Visage_. All the rocks in that that part of the asteroid belt contained only mundane metal ores such as iron or copper. No diamonds, quartz or any other crystalline materials were found, let alone the formation that spawned these remarkable blue crystals.

Somewhere out there in Jupiter's orbit rested an asteroid worth just enough to buy out an entire lunar colony.

"Tell me how your researchers first found out the crystals were invulnerable." Star asked succulently as she idly brushed the contours of Pierre's chest.

"Well, you see, I made a silly request to grind them up into finer pieces, but instead the diamond-tipped shaver turned broken. That immediately caught my attention..."

* * *

After Selner's first intimate encounters with Harry, the doctor achieved a greater level of prominence. Though she still held the office of chief medical officer, as Harry's first and only concubine, she held substantial sway over the crew. While a few officers such as Claris and Zhang were more senior to her, the hierarchies on pirate commands were always a bit muddled. Relationships and informal power went a long way into solidifying Selner as the third-most powerful person on the ship. Only Claris trumped her as the most powerful person on the ship besides Harry. With intimate knowledge in commanding space vessels, the pirate lieutenant's stature was difficult to overcome.

As for the rest of the crew, the captain made the announcement of Dr. Selner's new status at that morning. As his most beloved companion, she was to be afforded with the same level of respect that he himself received. Anyone who even looked at her the wrong way received a severe reprimand.

The crew had some difficulty adjusting to the new reality. Even Zhang seemed hesitant to approach the concubine in conversation. The former professor could hardly believe it himself that the so normally prude Dr. Selner had thrown away her body for such vulgarity. The few remaining former research members that looked up to her previously steadfast adherence to principles felt betrayed by the doctor's new course. They hid themselves from Selner's sights, afraid that she might rat out their seditious ideas to the captain.

She didn't. Their silly fantasies were too unlikely to ever come to fruit. Selner had not betrayed her ideals – she merely found a different method to achieve them. The way to free themselves from Harry's insanity was not to regard him as an overlord, but to treat him as a friend in need of company. As long as the doctor could make Harry devote his attention to her and only her, his desires would slowly intertwine with hers, achieving a balance away from the darkness poisoning his mind. This depended heavily on her skill as a seductress.

If she didn't exercise her power, the others wouldn't respect her. The problem was that her authority didn't extend beyond the medical bay. She had to show her power in other ways in order to make them respect her words instead of her body. This recruitment drive would be the first important demonstration of her newfound power.

++Arrival to **–**Trindebal Indentured Labor Exchange**–** in 5 minutes. Total fee: 20 universal credits.++

"Almost there."

The Trindebal Station central slave register handled hundreds of slaves every day. Pirates from all the corners of Jupiter's orbit arrived frequently to deliver a new batch of slaves taken from ship crews and passengers. The market handled the registration, branding and rudimentary medical treatment for the oft-abused newcomers. Women especially came half-dead most of the time, and needed a thorough period of recovery and makeover in order to attract high prices. Independent slave brokers then bought the refurbished slaves from the central authority and went on to sell them elsewhere on the station or at some other venue. All told, the slavery business was a profitable one, provided that nobody broke the merchandise.

The two most typical destinations for newly purchased slaves were either the brothels or the mines. A woman's life at a whorehouse was very hard. At the lowest segment, a female had to service filthy and vicious spacers up to ten times a day. Some faced even worse fates in order to provide the most sadistic clients an outlet of their perversions. Insanity, mutilation and even death were not too uncommon among the unluckiest of bonded women. For those who had the luck to survive, it took hard work and constant diligence to work themselves up to a more respectable clientele, but only if they had the requisite beauty and charm. Only rarely did a woman manage to work herself up to become the managing owner of an establishment.

As for the men, their time in the mines were harsh and short, with only death as their ultimate reward. Sadly, many toxic mines still existed where the use of bulky but economical machinery crushed the delicate resources embedded into the surface. Precision mining bots utilized by legal corporations were too expensive and slow. Many unscrupulous corporations therefore turned to human labor for a cost-effective solution, driving them to backbreaking work in order to meet the highest quarterly figures. The mining operators cared little for the lives they were ruining with their breakneck pace. A manual labor slave could easily be replaced for a mere ten thousand credits or less. The huge casualty figures were already accounted for in their books as capital that suffered a three year depreciation period with no salvage value in the end. In short, the slaves were disposable tools.

One major inefficiency in the whole slave trade was that the slaves were never allocated according to their talents. If the prisoners weren't academics that could be cooped up in a lab, then their knowledge, skills and abilities were almost completely neglected by the slavers. Many captured personnel held decades of valuable experience. Some of them were even eager to serve on a pirate ship to escape a worse fate. It was not an infrequent sight to see a pirate captain browsing the wares in order to snatch up a willing recruit.

Many of the rest were not as enthusiastic however. Their conscience wouldn't allow them to defect to a trade which hurt the livelihoods of their friends and family. Many transport haulers were essentially family enterprises, and the capture of each saw many sons and wives sold to brothels. The family members who still remained unsold were incredibly bitter against the entire pirate society.

It was these kinds of men and women Dr. Selner looked for. She sought spacers who stood by to their principles and resisted easy temptation. Changing the crew composition of the _Eviscerator_ would provide an environment where Harry, with any luck, would begin to feel less driven to maintain a dominating image. With Hargrave's violent pirates in the minority, the ship would hopefully foster a culture where values such as respect and mercy took root. Though Harry would never become a saint, there was still a chance that he could mellow out.

++This unit has arrived at the –Trindebal Indentured Labor Exchange–. Journey ends. Total fee: 20 universal credits.++

"Let's get this over with, _doctor_." Claris grumbled from Selner's side. It was a good thing she said 'doctor' instead of 'whore' like she wanted to say. The moody woman slammed the door on her side open and slipped out the hovercar.

The lieutenant's presence disjointed Selner. The doctor had been carefully avoiding Claris, knowing or at least suspecting her motives to claim Harry for herself. Of all the elements that could disrupt Lily's plan, a jealous ship commander posed the most dangerous threat by far. Neutralizing Claris' influence or eliminating her entirely was essential in guiding Harry back to the path to sanity.

When she went out to visit the slave market, Selner expected a guard to accompany her, perhaps even Cleveland himself. So when Claris waited for her outside with a hovercar on standby, the concubine went into a bit of a shock. What was Harry thinking?

Stepping out of the hovercar from the other side, Selner couldn't help but make another attempt. "You don't need to accompany me, Claris. I am perfectly safe on the station."

"On the contrary, dear Selner." The pirate retorted with a polite smirk. "I think there's a lot of risk of getting kidnapped here, and the captain agrees. In fact, he agreed so much that he decided to send his most _competent_ and _faithful_ subordinate to keep you safe. Besides, there is no one senior enough on the crew who knows as much about staffing ship positions as I do."

The two continued to exchange veiled glares at each other as they passed the entrance of the wide open compound.

"Just remember that I'm the one who selects the candidates." Selner punted back as she kept a healthy distance. "Harry personally granted me the power to authorize the purchase and transfer of slaves."

Touché. "Ah, the captain may have granted you decision authority, but he sent me here with _explicit_ instructions to advise you on your selection. I know for a fact that he dislikes headstrong and rebellious underlings. If he hears you disregarded my advice on that, well…"

This time Selner couldn't restrain her frown. A few headstrong and rebellious crewmen was exactly what the _Eviscerator_ needed to foster a positive environment. If she brought in too many meek and passive recruits, they would all be overwhelmed by the veteran pirates. All that might accomplish was to create a new batch of monsters. Such a lurid outcome was a huge setback for the concubine if it came to pass.

Her eyes averted from the pirate escort. "Oh, I'll be sure to take your advice into account, Claris."

After registering themselves at the information desk, the clerk handed Selner an authorization card that allowed her to register her claim on any slave for sale in the compound. It was a slow day, so there were not many pirates or other unsavory figures around. Still, the two women did not miss the envious eyes of the slave vendors around them. Only Claris' uniform and the formidable looking pistol by her side held them back from doing anything stupid. Just because clients weren't supposed to be kidnapped didn't mean that it never happened every now and then. With the appropriate bribe, every regulation could be circumvented.

The pair stepped inside one of the few shops that contained a high number of skilled ship crew.

"Ey," A stimulant-chewing vendor greeted from behind his desk. "Ya lookin' for some fresh meat?"

Claris answered before Selner could, earning a frown from her. "We're looking for ship recruits. You got any good spacers in your cage?"

"Meh, if you're looking for turncoats, don't look 'ere. None of them pansies are volunteering. Supply's been slow this past month."

"That doesn't matter for us. We just want to have a look at their capabilities."

"Right. Suit yourself. Just don't return them if your dumb scheme fails. I don't do refunds." The overweight salesman reached from under his seat and threw the digitized pad across his desk. "Help yerself."

Doctor Selner snatched the pad before Claris could. She grinned. "I'm the one handling the selection, not you."

The dark glare she received from Claris bounced harmlessly off her skin. It wasn't as if the female pirate was about to physically hurt her. As long as Selner enjoyed Harry's favor, she could do as she pleased, provided she didn't disobey Harry directly.

The cheap electronic information pad contained a series of profiles of the hundred or so slaves huddling inside the cages in the shop. Ten prisoners of the same gender were confined to every cage. Most of them wore nothing at all, so potential buyers could adequately judge the quality of the merchandise without any fuss.

Almost all of them looked already broken. For a single heart-wrenching moment, Selner impulsively considered buying the entire lot just so she could bring them away from the cruel reality they would face in the brothels or mines.

Then the concubine reminded herself that she had to stick to her objective. Angering Harry would not endear her to him. A growing gap between them allowed Claris or any other unsavory influence to gain a foothold in his mind. Thus, for her own sake, she had to stop considering to buy out the entire market. Seeing all the suffering faces around her made it hard for her to justify her decision, but she held on to her plan and continued to examine the data on the pad.

'_Once Harry sees the light, he'll be able to go back and free all these wretched slaves.'_

The sixth entry Selner browsed looked very interesting. The slave in question was an average looking man of some bulk who served as the Chief of Engineering on a large repair barge. The certifications that he possessed were remarkable. Though certainly not an intellectual powerhouse, he nevertheless possessed a wide range of practical experience. On paper, this Mr. Orsten looked like everything the _Eviscerator _needed to bolster her lackluster engineering section.

Turning to the vendor, she asked, "Could you please call up Mr. Orsten?"

"Eh? Which number?"

Claris snatched the pad from Selner's hand and ratted off the serial code for the salesperson to fetch the right person. The doctor tried to grab back the pad but Claris kept turning her back on her.

"Give it back."

"No. Mercury, you're an idiot." The lieutenant spoke plainly, her disgust growing deeper as she read more details. "This guy doesn't have any certification in either high thrust heat management or combat plasma routing. He's fine for slow bulky haulers, but he'd be a disaster if he served on any fast and maneuverable warships like the _Eviscerator_."

"Does the Evie have any engineers who are better than him?" To that, Claris had no immediately reply. Selner looked smug. The little research she performed beforehand paid off. "Thought so."

The vendor returned with the bound slave in tow. A sophisticated set of energized plastics were embedded on his arms and legs, preventing them from moving independently. The slave could be controlled by the device the slaver held in his hands. It initiated any set of simple pre-programmed movements such as walking or sitting. The huge man looked indignant from being towed in front like a prize monkey.

"This guy 'ere looks like an alright fella for any heavy-duty work. A bit of a stubborn streak though. Says he'd rather keel himself than raid a ship. Hah! The sanctimonious bastards. It's not like the corporations their working for are sucking us hard working people dry. Anyway, fifteen thousand creds and he's yours. A premium price for a premium set of muscle. He's a hardy fellow."

Selner approached the man and judged his demeanor. She sensed a mix of anger, pride, but also a calm measure of dignity and reserve. This was a person who would no doubt stand up to Harry's worst excesses.

"What do you think on working on a pirate ship?" She asked him. "Will you be willing to obey our orders?"

Orsten simply spat on her face.

The vendor quickly activated a punishing shock and muffled the prisoner's mouth before leading his merchandise back into his cage. "Sorry 'bout that, a few of these slaves aren't very worked in yet."

"I don't mind." Selner replied as she wiped her face clean with her self-cleaning lab robe. "I'll take him."

Her escort didn't like that decision. "Now wait a minute. That guy's too proud to submit to Harry's authority."

The two argued back and forth on Orsten's suitability. Selner emphasized his vast experience and his many leadership positions. Claris regarded such a powerful leader as a potent risk to the ship, and argued that his skills ran the wrong way. In the end, neither managed to resolve their differences.

"I'm going to add him on the list and that's that. If Harry objects, then he can tell me personally after he's seen Mr. Orsten's performance."

The resentful Claris couldn't do anything else but warn yet again that the captain's need for absolute control weighed heavier than Orsten's mediocre talents.

They continued with the same kind of spar over much of the forty-nine other positions. None of the following slaves they selected looked as headstrong as Mr. Orsten, so Claris was unable to provide too much objection over Selner's choices. It was a devious move by the so virtuous-looking academic. Claris found herself largely outmaneuvered by the stuffy bitch, something she had never expected in her life. Perhaps this was the real cougar, the side of Selner that was so successful in deluding Harry into taking her as his concubine.

Even through this recruiting mission, Claris failed to hold Selner back from selecting dominating personalities and morally conscious spacers. If she chose to object strongly to every fifty selections, she might risk wholesale rejection by her captain, and that put her into a deeper disadvantage. However, if she stayed silent, then she would be allowing Selner to do whatever she planned to do with the new crew. Claris suspected it was not in Harry's best interests. Without hard proof she could not accuse Selner of sabotaging his interests, especially when that dumb broad currently held the captain's favor.

This loss was yet another minor hindrance in Claris' quest to become Harry's queen. Without being able to prove herself in battle, other figures slowly started to eclipse the pirate lieutenant. And with the new influx of several highly skilled spacers, her own uniqueness might also be called into question. For now, she was the only person who knew enough about the ship to run it as a captain. But what if one of Selner's slaves eventually learned enough to be appointed as her substitute? What then? If that bitch held enough sway over Harry's love-addled mind, the doctor may somehow contrive to have Claris eliminated.

Claris' earlier missteps had let Selner catch up in the race for the wizard's affection. If this pattern went on, Harry would become completely ensnared in Selner's web. For the sake of Harry and her own safety, Claris needed to reverse her fortunes quickly. For the first time since she decided to seduce Harry, she realized that time was against her. With another competitor pursuing Harry more boldly than herself, Claris had to match Selner's moves with risks of her own before it was too late.

Perhaps the coming raid on the diplomatic convoy would provide some occasions for 'accidents' to occur. With so many systems under attack, the medical bay might experience a fatal breach.

* * *

To Harry, it seemed that most business deals these days were done over dinner. He didn't understand the need to spin the illusion that everyone was friends or anything. Couldn't he just sign an electronic contract and be done with it? But no, Captain Zymen _insisted_ that every participant in the coming raid should come and know each other better. At least Harry had some influence on the choice of restaurants. With some heavy convincing, he eventually convinced Zymen to go for Mexican. Spicy, but at least the dishes still seemed familiar after nine hundred years. Pasta was pasta no matter how many hundreds of years had passed. It didn't matter that most of the ingredients came from grotesquely mutated plant life.

"Ah, good to see you here, Captain Harry." The captain of the _Swift Corsair _greeted him. "You are the last one to arrive. Please, have a seat."

As he entered the quiet but festive-looking establishment, Harry took in the other guests. Sitting besides Zyman at the dining table were two other men and one female captain. For a moment, Harry tensed, but the unknown female didn't have Gloria's gorgeous black mane. The forty-something year old woman had a hardened but controlled bearing, and regarded him with a neutral expression.

Deciding to test her out, Harry approached her first and held out his hand. "Hi. I'm Harry of the _Eviscerator_."

The female captain declined to take Harry's hand. "Captain Rysa, of the missile frigate _Arbalest_. I heard of Captain Gloria's assault. I hope.. you can keep your hands to yourself."

Ouch. Harry tried his best to regain some sense of charm. "You needn't to worry, Rysa. Captain Gloria couldn't keep _her _hands to herself, so I was unfortunately forced to persuade her to think otherwise. As long as you don't make the same mistakes, I am sure we can come to an accord."

Rysa was not amused. With an indignant snort she turned her head to the opposite direction, preferring instead to stare at a fresco of a pair of sombrero-wearing chimpanzees. The obviously male monkeys appeared to be.. orally pleasuring each other.

The other two captains across the table rose to meet the boy instead. A grey-haired but energetic man greeted Harry first. "So I finally meet the youngster who is making all the waves lately. Pleasure to meet you Harry."

"Likewise, captain..?"

"Call me Urban. Don't ask." The old man introduced with an amiable grin as he shook Harry's head with a firm squeeze. "My family's been in the pirating trade for five generations, and I've got a little grandkid who's eager to serve on my ship next year."

"What's your ship?"

"The beautiful _Light of Pericles_, a wonder of a grappling frigate. Once you're in her jaws, there's no hope for you left."

The other person besides Urban made a gagging gesture. "Don't listen too much to this gramps. He's too much in love with his own ship."

"Hey, I still have a wife, you know?"

Rolling his eyes, the remaining captain turned to Harry to introduce himself. "I go by the handle of Prestor. My ship the _Lancelot_ is a destroyer."

A destroyer!

"She's the designated gatecrasher of Zymen's motley fleet." The handsome blond captain continued. "The _Lancelot_ is a very expensive lady to maintain, so I won't do this job with just an equal share of the spoils."

"Don't worry." Zymen called from his seat. "Everyone's agreed to split our shares up by tonnage. Since your ship weighs at least twice as the average frigate, you'll be certain to rake in a hundred million creds Prestor."

Having they all introduced themselves, the captains seated themselves in the secluded corner of the Mexican restaurant. The waiter arrived and handed out an authentic Earth paper menu for them to browse. Everyone waited eagerly for Captain Zymen to share the details of their job. The ringleader kept himself mum so far, leaving the others to appraise each other with careful suspicion. Except for Harry, the captains gathered at the table were all known as established and experienced pirates. They were competent in their jobs and chosen specifically by Zymen for their lack of moral objections to the practice of slavery. This meant that all of them weren't above stabbing their fleet mates in the back when the opportunity arose.

Captain Zymen therefore broached this topic first. "I know that many of you don't know each other. Asking you to trust everyone would be too much for me to ask. With this out in the open now, we can try to come up with a solution that would not see us all killed. I have two suggestions myself. Our first option is to ask the Callistoan Maffia to mediate between us and our client. Madame Green is willing to receive the payment from the client and hold on to it until our fleet returns from the nab job. Everyone will only be able to receive payment after Madame Green has verified that each and every one of us has played fair. None of us will receive our share if there is any suspicion of foul play. The only problem with this option is that the sensor logs of the battle that Madame Green needs to study can still be counterfeited."

"Ah, the tyranny of Murphy's Law." Captain Urban remarked as he sipped his sweetened wine. "Anything that can be hacked, will be hacked."

"And the other suggestion?" Rysa asked curtly.

"Well, we can do the classical captain switch." The organizer of this gathering leaned back against his seat. "I could captain the _Eviscerator_, Harry the _Light of Pericles, _Urban the _Arbalest_, and so on. It stops us from doing anything stupid. If your own ship is in trouble, you have to help out. Also, being surrounded by men not of your own will pressure you to keep to the agreement. What do you all think?"

Pretty much everyone except Harry shook their heads. The boy only declined to react because he didn't understand the whole idea yet.

"Alright, if no one has a better suggestion, we'll take Madame Green's assistance." Zymen then let out a little frown. "Though she did demand a twenty percent cut of the client's payout."

"What!" Prestor yelled erupted from his seat. "That's outrageous!"

"Well there isn't any other group to turn for this to except for the Callistoan Maffia. Either you accept the twenty percent cut, or we go through with the captain switch."

A heated debate raged on about the issue as the first hot dishes arrived at the table. Since Harry's share was at least forty million credits either way, he didn't really care to step in the middle of the fight. He barely held any influence. Still, perhaps a stint on another ship would be fun.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	16. I: Malicious Intent - Repost

April 19, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Malicious Intent_

* * *

The bright pastel-colored stateroom offered a resplendent view of Trindebal Station and its steady flow of traffic. Like fish in an aquarium, the pirate ships went about their business with seemingly no idea that they were observed. They were, of course, not just by the occupant of this room, but also by the Trindebal Station authorities and even the other ships themselves. Everyone kept an eye on everyone. It was impossible to be completely anonymous in the age of space.

In the back of the chamber sat a single person. Captain Gloria leaned back in her chair, contemplating the patterns on the moving digital mural as she brooded. A couple of credit cubes bounced in her hand. She rolled the cubes against her desk like playing dice. Since the cubes were just regular bits of metal and plasticized glass, there was no meaning in the act.

By all rights, she should just put away the cubes. But she couldn't. Not since that night. Except for showering and other essential chores, Gloria kept the cubes with her as if they haunted her. The face of that wickedly demonic boy kept popping up in her thoughts. It was as if he dominated her even in his absence. The thrill he gave her occupied her so much that other distractions lacked the same passion.

As she brutally worked her way up the pirate hierarchy over the years, Gloria thought that nothing excited her anymore except the prospect of battle. She was wrong. In that single fatal evening at the club, her very perception of the universe was shaken. Proving herself with a beat-up patrol corvette was difficult. Executing a risky gamble to steal the _Mirrored Abyss _was reckless. Now, at the pinnacle of her ascent, she had been brought down by some snot-nosed brat who couldn't keep his hands to himself.

There was nothing impressive about this 'Harry'. His alias sounded so stupid he might as well have called himself Bob or John. Strangely enough, there were no prior records on him anywhere on the net. That probably meant he hadn't done anything notable before his takeover of the _Eviscerator_, which was rather reckless. Sure, the kid might have some balls, but any kid could have taken over a dysfunctional tub like the _Eviscerator_.

However much she respected him, Hargrave swore too much by the old rules. His sudden fall proved that the times have changed. Industry and trade were blooming and you'd have to be crazy to limit yourself to preying on lone little transports. At least this Captain Kid had the guts to take on the Orion Constellations, but only time would tell whether he also had the wiles to survive among bigger fish.

Still.. Gloria's intuition hinted that the kid had spades to go. His ruthless ambition stretched further than any other individual. To not only escape from her ball-grabbing hold, but to turn the tables on her and exact retribution without any fear proved his audacity. No other man she tormented in the past had ever done that. The boy _exuded_ confidence. There must be some hidden strength in him that allowed him to overpower her and take her body as his. His lanky body – while physically unimpressive – was still able to subdue her military instincts and training.

The boy plainly mocked her illusion of strength. To be defiled in such a public manner was a very pointed humiliation. It wasn't about the physical harm. MarsMil had given her the same conditioning against sexual harassment as their other spacers. The blow to her reputation and pride was much, much worse. Other captains regarded her as one of the most skilled and vicious raiders this side of Jupiter. To let some kid have his way with her body like a cheap whore shattered her dignified image. Now she was just 'another' captain, someone who had tasted defeat and might be defeated again. Even her own subordinates didn't fear her as much anymore.

Gloria took the credit cubes back in her hand and rolled them around in her grip. She needed to salvage her reputation. What better way to achieve that than to return Harry's change?

She activated a visual showing a map of the local environment. Trackers placed between the thruster nozzles of the least-advanced ship, the _Swift Corsair_, had been sending out a constant signal disguised as infrared interference. None of the sensor operators in Zymen's little fleet should be able to detect these trackers unless they knew what they were looking for. Pirates usually didn't. Grinning, the woman shut the image off and raised herself from her seat.

The hunt was on.

* * *

In the end, Captain Prestor's stinginess bulldozed all other opinions. Twenty percent from a two-hundred-and-fifty million payout was too exorbitant a price to prevent possible betrayals. While everyone held varying competencies in captaining a ship, their subordinates were all men and women who knew what they were doing and could do without their regular leader's direction. Having a stranger in the captain's seat did not disrupt their operations significantly. Besides, it wasn't like the visitor held any actual power.

Sure, the switched captain was allowed to enjoy the privileges befitting his rank, such as being able to sit on the captain's chair on the bridge and have the captain's quarters all to himself, but in an actual battle the actual direction flowed from the executive officer. Perhaps if the visiting captain asked nicely, he or she could order the walls painted pink or have fish for dinner instead of pork. But disturb anything important and they'd get fobbed off. Important ship systems such as weapons, environmentals and engineering were all strictly out of the visitor's control.

They were nothing more than hostages, really. Captains Harry, Prestor, Rysa, Urban and Zymen were all valuable pawns in the midst of hostile hands if their own crews tried anything treacherous. If the _Eviscerator _tried in any way to attack a damaged ally, Harry would quickly face an army of angry spacers whose loyalty he didn't command. It was quite an ingenious solution by the pirates. Most ships ran on the charisma of their captains, and thus most crews weren't willing to risk their captains' lives. The system wasn't perfect though. If the crew was sufficiently dissatisfied, they could just kill their guest officer and do whatever they wanted, heedless of their own helpless captain in the midst of the enemy ship.

As Harry himself had carefully induced every new slave selected by Dr. Selner with a slightly tweaked Mark, he wasn't too worried. Claris, Selner and the rest of his senior officers were too dependent on his power and success to double-cross him. He had warned his men that if he were to perish, the Mark would start feeding on their life force. It wasn't totally true, but the threat was sufficient enough to keep them on edge and prevent any schemes to assassinate him. While it did leave some room for mischief, he relied on Selner's promise to him to keep the new entrants in line.

She'd pay if she couldn't keep her word.

Hopefully the visiting captain on his ship would not mind all the blood runes splattered all over the ship. Harry eagerly imagined what Captain Rysa would think of his quarters.

The front door to his stateroom suddenly chimed and opened up to let in one of the _Lancelot_'s officers.

"Captain Harry." The old and steady executive officer called as he stepped in Prestor's stateroom. "You called for me?"

"Yes, lieutenant… um…"

"Marlow." The man answered stoically.

Harry leaned forward in his seat from the desk and put away Marlow's information sheet. Somehow the boy wasn't so surprised that a flamboyant person such as Prestor hired such a down-to-earth executive officer. Lieutenant Marlow was a Second who knew his business and possessed enough solid experience to anchor Prestor's penchant for risk-taking. This combination might work well if there was an actual captain around to issue orders. As a guest with no real authority, Harry couldn't influence the stoic executive officer. This might come back to bite them in the butt when a desperate situation called for rapid choices and dangerous risks. Unexciting commanders didn't make for successful commanders.

He began to speak, conscious that he couldn't dictate him like he could at his old crew. "I'd like to clarify our roles on this ship. Since the _Lancelot_ will be the first to close in, we need to have a clear chain of command."

"There is no need for clarification." The lieutenant replied, appearing more than a little dumbfounded. It was all a good show of course. "You are the captain."

Sighing, Harry gestured at Marlow's command ring. "We all know that's bullshit. You're the one in control here. Now, before you speak up, I'm not looking to usurp your command or anything like that. I don't have any interest in taking over this ship. I just want to make our positions clear to each other."

"I don't understand.. sir."

"Have you noticed that your men are not paying much attention to you?" He received an empty stare in return. "Captain Prestor has always been the one issuing orders, right? How do you think they feel now that they are left alone with you?"

This time Marlow did react, bristling with indignation. "Are you saying I don't qualify for command, sir?"

"You're deflecting the question. I'm not doubting your competence. I don't know a thing about starships, and frankly, I don't care to learn. But being the _captain_ of a ship is more than just knowing all the systems. Your crew might not like me very much, but they watch me like a hawk, ready to comply if I give out any small request. I don't see the same eagerness when they are facing you alone. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"Alright, I get your point." Marlow let out, but his expression hardened considerably. "However, I cannot give you any concessions. Captain Prestor already told me what to do if you started to demand more power."

That wasn't something Harry had expected, or factored in his equation. "Oh? What have you been ordered to do then? Please enlighten me."

The executive officer made a signal, and instantly the door opened up to let an armored marine through the doorway. The clanking of the soldier's heavy bearing resounded loudly against the sterile white tiles of the stateroom. A menacing Class II pulse rifle rested calmly over the big man's shoulder. At least the grunt had the courtesy not to aim the barrel at Harry.

"This is rather excessive." Harry remarked sordidly as he twitched his fingers towards his sidearm. "If I must remind you, I am still a guest on this ship. If you do not acknowledge me as a captain, at least have the decency to maintain the usual courtesies. Or is that too much for ravenous pirates like you?"

Lt. Marlow didn't rise to take the bait. "It's well known that you've been stationed on this destroyer because you are the least competent of all the captains in our fleet. There's no need for you to interfere with the _Lancelot's_ internal affairs, so I would like to kindly ask you to confine yourself to these quarters. If you have any complaints to make, please take it up to Captain Prestor on the _Light of Pericles_. You still retain a limited amount of communication privileges on the shipnet. If that is all, enjoy your stay here, captain."

The acting captain turned to leave the stateroom. The marine on the other hand seemed to have no intentions of budging out of his comfortable spot. This was not what Harry wanted to deal with so early in his stay on this military warship. With her thick armor and powerful medium-range railgun broadsides, the _Lancelot_ was expected to be slugging it out with any powerhouses the enemy convoy would have. Quick thinking and decisive action were needed. Marlow's methodical planning and intimate knowledge of every single detail of every single bolt and nail was only of use when Prestor let his Second deal with all the boring stuff.

"I would not go past that door if I were you, Marlow. We can still negotiate a fruitful accommodation."

"Bite me."

What Harry was about to do would be the first time since his awakening that he interfered in matters not directly linked to his own. The wizard regretted taking this action, but he refused to allow his fate and the fate of his crew aboard the Evie to depend on the whims of this underwhelming Second. If he had to create a major incident and waste a large amount of his magic to do so, then so be it. The people on the _Lancelot_ were not his men. He owed them nothing.

"I regret taking this course of action."

Harry pressed the button to close the door in Marlow's face.

He then withdrew his revolver in a smooth action and trained it towards the guard. The armored man had not expected to actually shoot a captain, and the way Harry drew his weapon seemed so innocuous that the guard only managed to draw his rifle halfway up before a _Reductor _curse struck his chest. The terrible impact crunched right through his armor like a foil and caused the torn sheets of metal to tear into his stomach. The faceless guard cried out in horrid agony as his open wounds gushed out splatters of blood.

"You're crazy!" Marlow said as he backed off and tinkered with his command ring. "You can't possibly take over the ship by yourself!"

The air started to change around them. Oxygen rapidly filtered out of the room at the same time as Marlow's vacsuit formed an emergency airtight dome over his head.

_'Funny trick, but futile.'_ Did Marlow really think Harry's battle robes were just for show?

Though his battle robes still eschewed most modern features embedded into spacer clothing, the wizard did enchant some useful functions to fit into this time period. He calmly pulled up the cowl hanging behind his back and let it cover his head. A small magical force field glowed into being in front of him, sealing his head from the oxygen-deprived air.

With that done, he spun his firing chamber before blasting the executive officer with a stunner. The weedy man fell without any further fuss.

Harry still needed Lieutenant Marlow alive.

The old curses had started acting up in Harry's sleep lately, reminding him of their growing hunger. His last few stunts since his awakening had fed the long-dormant magic, bringing them closer to awakening. While his coming plan to take charge of the _Lancelot_ doubtlessly consumed a lot of magic, the investment would eventually be worth it. The afflicted boy couldn't really afford to wait for a year to round up the credits for a passage to Earth.

Harry withdrew his Elder Wand and flicked it at the disemboweled corpse of the guard. The spilled blood began to animate. Its vile liquid shape morphed and contracted as it crept towards the unconscious Marlow. The seemingly sentient fluids slowly enveloped the floor around Marlow's unconscious form and stretched themselves into elaborate runes and sigils.

A simple Mark was insufficient. In his short time among the crew of the _Lancelot_, he learned that they were very different from his ramshackle scoundrels aboard the Evie. Prestor had a great eye for talent and was proficient in motivating his crew. The men and women were well-dressed, well-groomed and well-trained. The Mark lacked enough power to keep his takeover under wraps.

With the limited amount of material and knowledge at his disposal, Harry could not resort to forced obedience or rudimentary mind control. He needed a more direct approach, one that played to his strengths and one that drew most of its power from blood. Such rituals were usually in the domain of the Dark Arts, but that couldn't be helped.

The time needed to prepare the site and invoke the ritual took hours. Other inconveniences such as not having other ritualists with him to channel the spell properly degraded the quality of his results. The best Harry could hope for was a botched job that somehow functioned well enough.

The worst was too horrible to describe.

In the end, Harry took a calculated risk by investing a significant portion of his dwindling magic. Should it work out, he would have another ship at his disposal. If not, then his new career might be cut short. There was no middle ground.

* * *

Professor Zhang, nominally third in command of the _Eviscerator_, was currently at the receiving end of an angry tirade.

"Unacceptable, completely unacceptable!" Captain Rysa raged as she looked on at the large collection of idle crewmen lounging in the mess hall. "Why are you letting these barely pacified _slaves_ wander around your ship like gawking tourists? They should be restrained and confined in the brig!"

The Asian hurriedly guided her off to somewhere less public. "Captain Harry has made sure to keep them under control."

"Then where are the slave collars? The shock bands? The limb arrestors? I see no constraints at all that would insure their cooperation."

"Then I am afraid you will just have to deal with it, captain." Doctor Selner chose to appear from the corner of the corridor. A tiny swagger infected her steps as she neared the pair. "We've been out in space for over a day and nothing's fallen apart yet. You really should give our new crewmen a chance."

"And who are _you_ supposed to be, doctor?" Rysa raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. "One crewman said you were Captain Harry's fuck bunny. Another person says you're the unofficial caretaker of all these slaves. Perhaps most surprisingly, none of the crewmen on this ship even mentioned you were the chief medical officer. I had to pull that from of the records."

Selner only smiled at Rysa's bewilderment. "We don't pay too much attention to the hierarchy on this ship. Captain Harry can be rather.. disorganized in that regard. Nevertheless, the ship is still working fine and nothing has broken yet. You should really not concern yourself with these trivial concerns, captain."

"There's too much at fault to _not_ worry! Everything I see is a perversion of standard practice. Especially this," She pointed towards a set of runes covering a systems panel. "This does not make any sense, and most of the crew thinks so as well! And don't let me even get started on the captain's quarters. I cannot even bear to sleep under such gruesome fixtures."

The professor decided to cut the visiting captain off before she could criticize the ship any further and dragged her away from Selner. Some bystanders hanging around had started to grow insulted as Rysa went on with her complaints. It wouldn't do much good for everyone if relationships aboard the _Eviscerator_ started to deteriorate. With the sudden influx of headstrong and barely restrained slaves and with little time to work them in the crew, the atmosphere was like a tinderbox. One incident could spark of a disastrous riot that could engulf the entire vessel into anarchy.

"Let go of me!" Rysa growled as she yanked her arm from Zhang.

"Look, I get what you're saying, but this has worked out quite well enough. You can complain all you want, but is that really going to change the situation? We're hundreds of thousands of kilometers away from Trindebal already, and we're not just going to turn around because you don't like the staffing."

"We can still confine the slaves to the brig." Rysa suggested sullenly alongside Zhang.

"And what would that accomplish? We'd alienate the newcomers, underman our stations, and all for what? More security? Harry hired them for a reason."

"You mean _Selner_ hired them for a reason."

"Fair enough. But she has as much stake in the stability of this ship as any of us. We're not going to run off or anything like that. Just stop antagonizing the slaves and they should come around eventually."

The captain didn't look convinced, but Zhang had eventually swayed her over with the need to be discrete. Rysa burst with ideas on how to discipline the crew, but they wouldn't work since she didn't have any knowledge on Harry's magic. While the slaves were sullen and unruly, the most important factor was acceptance.

In Selner's opinion, they needed to adjust to their new situation, to which the command crew reluctantly agreed to. Rysa and a few others preferred a more proactive approach, but without the required amount of power to enforce her will she couldn't go very far with her ideas. Only Harry himself had the authority to make the crew obey.

The key was Chief Orsten, who took over in engineering. His forceful personality and senior bearing made him the most natural person to look up to for the sullen recruits. Luckily, he and Selner had made an accord with each other. Orsten, for the most part, restrained from agitating the crew into doing something rash in exchange for.. something. What exactly, Zhang didn't know, but it must have been extremely convincing to move the forceful man into making himself subordinate to the doctor.

Still, one man could not change an entire group's direction. The grievances against piracy were just too strong for those who had suffered brutally at its hands. There needed to be more accommodation. If Harry was here, he could just intimidate the newcomers into submission. But since he wasn't here, all of the senior officers were basically flailing about in the water.

The clash between Claris and Selner especially turned out to be disruptive. As someone who commanded the respect of more than half of the crew, the medical doctor was a veritable power broker. Her position as Harry's bed mate made her impervious to any threats and sanctions. Claris on the other hand was Harry's designated second-in-command and in overall command of the ship. Her position at the top of the hierarchy allowed her to issue formal orders and rearrange any aspect of the _Eviscerator_. Despite those privileges, her powers were still constrained by Selner's influence.

Both women held different motivations and both desired different things. Harry was the glue that kept them from diverging. With him gone, everything started to turn into hell. Zhang had been propelled in the uncomfortable position of trying to mend relations between the two while keeping Rysa off everyone's backs. Difficult, but he had handled many challenges in his life.

'_It's not like they are about to resort to violence.'_

Three days later, during the night shift, an aft portside maneuvering thruster exploded violently.

* * *

The alarm in Prestor's quarters blared Harry awake. Decades of being hunted to the ends of the world had given him the ability to shrug off any sleep in seconds. It still took him half a minute to magically equip his robes and weapons. It took a few seconds more to fumble with the electronic controls of his communicator.

The night-shift duty officer of the _Lancelot _appeared on a screen. The man – not Lieutenant Marlow, sadly – issued a long string of orders to the bridge crew at a calm measured pace. The officer did not even turn towards Harry until he finished his routine. He didn't look very pleased with Harry's interference. "Yes? What is it now, Captain?"

"I'd like to know what's going on. Are we under attack?"

The lieutenant looked at some piece of data off the communication screen. "One of our ships suffered damage. Some kind of thruster malfunctioned and exploded. No signs of any enemy presence so far. The fighters from the mobile carriers are scrambling to expand our sensor perimeter. Hold on, we're receiving orders from the squadron commander."

The bridge chatter increased again as more details came through.

"Bring the ship to yellow alert. Cut off main engines. Fortify the power matrix. Cover the _Eviscerator._"

The Evie! Harry hunched forward and tried to peer into the sensor data projected on the bridge. "Is there something wrong with the _Eviscerator_?"

"The damn ship decided to blow up suddenly. Damn rookies, don't you guys know how to keep your bucket in one piece?"

Getting anything useful from this insolent bridge officer was fruitless. Harry mercilessly cut off the feed and opened an audio link to Marlow instead.

"Take over from that idiot on the bridge."

"I'm already on my way."

Harry moved towards the exit. "I'll be present on the bridge as well."

"That's not—"

"Don't forget your place, Marlow."

"..Yes sir."

Although the destroyer was at least twice as large as a frigate or mobile carrier, the senior officers were all quartered less than a minute's walk away from the bridge. Harry entered the bridge just after Marlow took over from the night-shift duty officer. The ticked off officer glowered at Harry's presence.

It was time to make a statement.

As Marlow approached the captain's seat, Harry quickly overtook the slow officer and sat on the chair himself. The executive officer stopped, blinked, then meekly accepted the boy's attempt to assert himself. Lieutenant Marlow instead diverted to the tactical plot. A bloom of lights and displays lit up as his chair recognized his command ring.

Harry configured his own displays to put the Evie into focus. The reality-enhanced image of the sleek mobile carrier soon enveloped his main holographic screen. The damage was actually quite modest. If the scanner didn't highlight the smoke trail leaking out the back side of the ship, he wouldn't have noticed the damage in the first place.

The bridge officers were obviously confused who to report to. Besides Marlow, Harry had not infected anyone else with his magical enchantments. In this early stage, none of the men and women serving on this destroyer exhibited any abnormal behavior. Sure, the disappearance of a single marine a few days earlier had caused quite a stir. That did not mean that there was a threat on the ship.

Sadly, it looked like the same could not be said for the Evie.

"Open a communication channel to the bridge of the _Eviscerator_, please."

"But sir, Captain Zymen prohibited all intership communications unless we're in battle. Opening a direct channel violates his instructions."

"Are you out of your mind? There's a ship suffering from a fire right now! Who knows if there are any attackers lurking nearby?" Harry glared back at the communications tech. "Open a channel already."

The tech deferred to lieutenant Marlow, who reluctantly gave his wordless consent to Harry's direct order. The confusion on the bridge still lingered, but that wasn't Harry's problem right now.

The screen eventually connected to the Evie, showing a disorganized off shift that looked like they were on the verge of becoming overwhelmed. Some of them were literally running around, switching from station to station to check every setting. In the midst of the chaos sat Claris in her signature black uniform. She seemed to have already anticipated Harry's call. A faint frown marked her face as she turned from her data to the incoming channel.

"Captain Harry."

"Claris, what's going on at the Evie?"

"A miniature fuel container in the aft upper deck somehow caught fire and exploded. The entire port thruster connected to that container blew with it. All kinds of debris spilled out into the adjacent corridor. Damage reports are still reporting in, though I can reassure you now that this explosion is only an isolated incident. We're not being ambushed by other ships."

The lack of evidence of any outside influence put Harry at ease. Still, a blown out thruster was not a very desirable occurrence, and to his current understanding such a calamitous malfunction should have never happened in the first place. He let Claris direct her bridge for a few minutes in order to put the ship back in order.

"Well?"

"Sir, I've been checking the data logs. Nothing indicates that there has been any tampering or sabotage. All camera logs report nothing unusual. As of this moment.. we cannot determine the cause of the incident, except that such a malfunction is unlikely to have occurred naturally. The emergency fuel tanks for each directional thruster are deliberately placed in a protected cocoon away from any major power lines and high-intensity systems. Maintenance performed in that section is also up to standard to my knowledge, so it cannot be caused by simple neglect."

A second beep sounded throughout the bridge of the destroyer. The comm tech turned from his screen to face Harry. "Captain, there's an incoming channel from the _Arbalest_. It's Captain Zymen sir, do you wish to speak to him?"

He waved his hand. "Put him through. Initiate a three-way conference between the _Eviscerator_, _Arbalest_ and _Lancelot_."

The grim face of Zymen came online. He acknowledged Claris and Harry with a hasty nod. "Any danger?"

"No external danger, sir. The _Eviscerator _is settling down from red alert and we have work parties extinguishing the remaining fires."

"Good. But that still leaves the cause of this incident unclear. Is there any evidence to suggest that this is deliberate attack?"

"We can't rule that out."

Claris wanted to continue on, but a new figure stepped in front of her. Captain Rysa hastily buttoned up her self-ironing uniform.

"Zymen! This incident is the last straw! The entire place is a madhouse! You have to give me command authority or else this entire cattle pen will descend into chaos!"

"Whoa whoa, Rysa, calm down. Can you start from the beginning?"

To the apparent dismay of Claris, Rysa began to vent out her entire pent-up frustrations. Everything wrong about the ship spilled out of her maw as a flood of expletive ridden words that sounded barely coherent to anyone else.

She complained about the blood runes strewn all over the ship, which gave a disorganized impression of the ship that encouraged unruly men to behave disrespectfully. Claris grew more flustered as Rysa pointedly described the chaotic crew composition, of which only a third were proper pirates. The rest, she described as wannabes and "involuntary slackers only a few days out of their slave cages and already plotting for mutiny." The exploding fuel canister lay conveniently close to her guest quarters, she noted pointedly.

"Frankly, I don't feel safe in this environment anymore. I neither have the authority nor the sanity to restore discipline here. I want out. I want to swap with Harry. At least Prestor knows how to run a tight ship. Let the boy clean up his own mess."

The squadron leader didn't like what he had just heard. The whole point of a captain switch was to remove a power broker from the center of his base and hold him hostage among a crew that owed no fealty to him. Usually, a visiting captain held inconsequential power, allowing the executive officer and the rest of the command crew to take the reins. Evidently, the _Eviscerator_ was so disorganized that it required a strong leader to restore discipline. Either he could grant Rysa authority to exercise her will as an actual captain, or he could send Harry back to let him sort the situation out. Neither were very palatable choices.

This entire mess shouldn't have been formed in the first place.

Zymen was not too paranoid to suspect this whole incident had been fabricated to allow Rysa or Harry to consolidate their base of power on the _Eviscerator_. Common sense told him to station another captain on the ship, preferably himself, but from the way he understood it the replacement would just be as ineffective as Rysa. The only other conceivable option was to send boarders over from other ships in order to pacify the _Eviscerator_, but that took up too much manpower. The point was to use their marine force on the enemy ships, not to guard his own crew. His squadron had less than three weeks to get everyone up to sync with all the battle tactics he had formulated in his head.

"Alright, I'll approve the switch on one condition." The leader turned towards Harry. "While the way you manage your ship is your own damn problem, your ship's dysfunction still affects our group performance. The other captains are going to throw up a fuss if they hear you're sent back to your own ship due to problems of your own fault."

"What's the condition, then?"

"I'm deducting five percent of our total earning out of your percentage share. That's about seven million credits at least. I might return a portion if your ship performs admirably, but I won't bet on it."

Seven million out of fifty or so million was a substantial penalty, and Harry ordinary refused such demands. The wizard had nothing to do with the crisis on his ship. He had no desire to abandon his machinations onboard the _Lancelot_ to hammer his recently expanded crew back in shape. On the other hand, the _Eviscerator_ and her crew were undeniably his responsibility. Their ramshackle performance reflected badly on him, and might cause his share of the pot to shrink even further if the complaints continued to persist.

In the end, Harry just had to hope his gamble with Lieutenant Marlow on the _Lancelot_ succeeded without his supervision. If so, the small five percent he'd give up now would be peanuts compared to the wealth he stood to gain. That was if everything else went right.

"I accept." Harry said. "I'll take one of _Lancelot_'s shuttles and return to the _Eviscerator_ immediately. Captain Rysa can take the shuttle back to its hangar on the destroyer."

"Very well." Zymen nodded, and Rysa nodded alongside him at the digital conference. "I'm giving you a week's time before I begin squadron-wide drills. If you cannot get your crew under control by then, we'll just space those new slaves you brought in and let your ship be handled by your original men."

The remaining details and instructions were hammered out in the next few minutes. Ignored by both captains, Claris sat unobtrusively on the captain's seat, fingering her command ring.

As the only real communications and sensor specialist on this ship, it was child's play to manipulate the ship systems. She had the camera footage along the route to the aft portside section looped to show only empty corridors. Smuggling in the plasma self-igniter module she bought beforehand and dumping it through the refueling nozzle behind the panels had also been easy. Sure, some of her genetic material and other traces may have been left behind, but the blast should have been sufficient enough to wipe out all her traces. And to be certain that any evidence would be scorched, she had discretely pumped more oxygen into that section to augment the firestorm. Nothing incriminating should be left in the hallway.

Claris deliberately chose to sabotage closely from Rysa's quarters in order to rattle the bitch. Killing her outright would cause up a huge stink, so the officer opted to scare the visitor into leaving the Evie instead.

Now, with Harry returning, Dr. Selner would finally get her come-uppance. After all, it was 'her' crew that caused all these latest troubles. Zymen and the others already blamed this incident on the slaves regardless of any counter-arguments. They were the most obvious trouble makers on the ship and the likely suspects of sabotage.

Images of Dr. Selner's downfall continued to play in Claris' imagination. Maybe Harry would finally snap out of his lovesick crush and kick that tramp out of the airlock.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	17. I: Collision Course - Repost

April 22, 2011  
Repost: November 11, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Collision Course_

* * *

Boy, when Harry arrived at the _Eviscerator's_ hangar bay, he was pissed. Royally pissed. He was so pissed that he ignored Claris' greeting and went straight to the nervous-looking Selner and grabbed her collar.

"You promised." He growled.

To her credit, the doctor didn't try to weasel her way out. "I tried, but I don't have that much influence among the new recruits!"

"Where are they now? Have you gathered them?"

"No." She replied, but quickly added, "I can't without antagonizing them more."

Weak. Selner was too weak. Underlings should never stop fearing their superiors. The entire incident that caused one of the thrusters to explode was due to her weakness. Harry now saw that it hadn't been such a good idea to bring in so many new recruits without bothering to work them properly into his ranks. His absence caused the newcomers to grow overconfident, disregarding all the warnings. A few of the new recruits stood at the hangar deck right now. They stayed out of the way but still stared at him with curiosity instead of the fear they should have felt.

"Everyone's grown too soft."

It all came down to a lack of fear. His subordinates didn't fear him. His command crew didn't fear him. Even Selner didn't fear him. Not that much, anyway. When he looked in her eyes, he could sense anxiety, but not enough of that sweet, sugary dread. She probably expected she could figure out an excuse to pass the blame and escape his wrath.

There would be none of that nonsense. The impunity must end now.

Harry cracked down his arm, slamming Selner against the surface of the rough metal deck. The doctor let out a small cry, which intensified when Harry kicked her stomach hard. He momentarily dismissed her then, turning to Claris and the rest of the small crowd of observers.

"When I give you an order, you follow it. When you make a promise, you had better be _damn_ sure you can keep it. You are my vassals, my representatives. Every act you take speaks either ill or good for me. I do _not_ want to be embarrassed. Claris,"

The nervous lieutenant stood at attention. "Yes, captain!"

"What's your excuse?"

The eyes boring into her were as hot as a raging firestorm. One wrong answer and she could easily end up as broken as Selner. "C-Captain, I tried to keep the ship under control, but the discipline is just too lax among the entire crew. Half of the new security forces are newcomers themselves."

"So?"

"Well… I couldn't do anything too drastic to upset them. They might mutiny if I push them too hard."

A dreadful word. Mutiny. Everything about the word was wrong. To lose control over what should have been a compliant crew was a terrible mark on his record. Even now he could spot the signs. The suspicious eyes. The low murmuring. The avoidance of his gaze. The hired slaves feared him, but in the wrong kind of fear. The fear stiffened them, provoked them and encouraged them even to seek ways to escape their bonds. The exploded thruster was just the first blow of many, a sign of turmoil to come.

Hah. As if they could unseat him from his throne with a few fireworks. Many have tried to kill him and failed. Now this crew was about to learn what happened to those who opposed him and his rule.

Had they not learned that there was no escape from the Master of Death? Even death itself was no release.

The contemplating boy eventually sighed. "I'm too tired of this shit. I don't want to drag myself in front of the crew again and make another stupid speech only to kill of a bunch of idiots at the end. Clearly I'm not as effective as I should have been."

He realized now that he had been monopolizing the aura of fear to himself. Only when - by necessity - Harry left the _Eviscerator_ had this ugly situation developed into a massive problem. A leader must be feared. But in a hierarchy, such fear could not transfer down effectively from only a single point of origin. Fear must be channeled. Conduits must be developed in order to keep the crew from getting ahead of themselves. For that, he needed a suitable vessel.

With a new idea in his mind, he asked, "Claris, what is your estimation of Cleveland and his First Squad's loyalty to me?"

"They're a hundred percent behind you, sir."

"Good.. good. Have them called up here in full gear."

Harry then gestured Claris towards him as she finished relaying the command. The lieutenant approached with justifiable caution. The responsibility of the failure did not lay on Selner's shoulders alone.

"Yes, Captain?"

A hand reached out to touch her arm. Surprisingly, the grip didn't squeeze her very tightly. Though his face betrayed no emotion, Harry made sure he treated Claris gently. His thumb rubbed her Mark just above her inner elbow. The skin around it started to heat up and constrict. As the effects grew more painful, Claris feared that Harry would dish out some horrible punishment. Would he burn out her nerves? Break her ribs? Gouge out her eyes?

Instead, when the pain almost reached some invisible threshold, Harry abruptly let go. The relieved lieutenant let out a silent sigh and resisted the urge to rub her irritated arm.

"Hold out your command ring."

She obeyed and pulled out the incredibly sophisticated ring from her finger and presented it out with her palm. Was he going to revoke her privileges? Was she not worthy anymore to carry the ring?

Not quite. The boy drew out his knobby-looking stick and pointed the sharp end at the ring. Harry invoked some words to himself, too silent for Claris' ears to pick up. The tip brightened, then transferred some of that heat over to the ring itself. The white digital lines that ran over the silver metallic surface started to distort into tiny insets of runes, similar to the ones plastered all over the ship. After the spell expended itself, Harry returned the stick to the folds of his robe and stepped back.

"Put it on."

As she did so, Harry started to explain.

"You said to me that the others didn't fear you. Soon they will. I have altered the Mark that runs through your soul and given it a tiny portion of my power. If you concentrate hard enough and speak the correct trigger, you will be able to draw whomever you want who bears my mark to any destination you have in mind that is close to you. I would like you to gather all the slaves and other troublemakers here to end this damnable subordination by your own hands."

"Thank you sir.. but how?"

Harry's eyes gave off a savage glint as he responded. "Make them fear you. Make them fear Cleveland and his First Squad. Use any means possible, even if you have to discard some lives. Stamp out their defiance, root out their confidence, and make them live in terror of your presence. Above all, bring back some discipline and make them clear that refusal is not an option."

"Yes sir, gladly sir!" She acknowledged brightly while trying hard to squash her enthusiasm.

This was a prime opportunity to prove herself. Harry had bestowed part of his power into her because he trusted her more than Selner at this moment. Claris had been waiting for this chance. This was why she sabotaged the ship in the first place. Fail in Harry's expectation like Selner had done, and she stood to lose her privileged position within his circle. Everything must be done according to his benefit.

"Very well." He nodded with satisfaction. "The power word to call them to you is _Dobby_. Use it carefully, and use it with force. I'll be retiring for now. Report back to me as soon as you're finished."

The captain left Claris to her own devices and started towards the exit. Harry took a small detour and grabbed Selner's hair, dragging her up and along his way. The poor woman simpered at her rough treatment but knew better than to complain. She lost that right when she became Harry's whore.

A dark wave passed over the boy ever since he struck the woman down. It gave him such a pleasure to see someone at his mercy, especially an attractive woman such as Selner. Harry had taken her as his concubine precisely to satisfy his urges. Sometimes, he sought comfort. Other times, he desired companionship. Now though, all he wanted was to vent his frustrations and relieve his sorely neglected erection.

Later, much later, he would calm down, and grant the disgraced doctor another chance to prove herself. Just not now.

Claris meanwhile grimaced at the prospect of what was about to take place in Harry's quarters. _'He still hasn't given up on that bitch.'_ She channeled her jealousy and anger into a single focus, and forced it through her heating Mark. Then, she opened her eyes and called out, _"__**Dobby!**_"

Everyone on the ship promptly stopped what they were doing and let their unattended stations go into standby. Those who had been with Harry before he arrived at Trindebal Station soon shrugged off their distraction. The rest were not so lucky. A powerful compulsion hung over them, and just like the one that Harry had once performed, the compulsion forced these powerless individuals to leave their stations and walk inexorably towards one destination: the hangar deck. Like clockwork soldiers, they neatly fell into place along the lines that were arrayed before Claris. Cleveland and the rest of his chosen boarders had also arrived sometime during the process. The elite soldiers took up strategic positions with their powerful beam rifles. Even if the compulsion somehow broke, these men and women were still vulnerable to everything else.

As she held her pistol neatly in her grip, Claris thought over her options. There were just so many different ways to scare a crew into submission. The statement she was about to make to this crew would have to be powerful, but not too wasteful. She was not averse of killing a few of the troublemakers such as Chief Orsten, but killing too much would defeat the purpose of recruiting them in the first place. She had to be both careful and brutal in her demonstration. Harry had used the method of decimation to illustrate the crew's collective responsibility, as well as pointing out that no one escaped the chance of death. She had to come up with something else that surpassed that performance. Something powerful enough to make the crew fear her more than Harry.

After all, fear was power. If the crew saw her as a more bloodthirsty tyrant than Harry, then he might begin to appreciate her as a woman. The man drank terror like a well-aged cup of wine. He might even start to see her as his equal.

Claris didn't hold back.

The purge that followed was brutal, but efficient. Five ring leaders along with a few other hapless victims were turned into examples for the rest of those who still held hope of escape. The First Squad's beam rifles were put to creative uses, cutting off limbs, burning off eye sockets, and many other vile cruelties. To make it worse, those standing beside the victim had to hold the person down to the deck as the beams were working into their bodies. The entire display had been a remarkable showcase of her influence. The captain had given her a carte blanche on who to kill and who to let go.

Of course, she eliminated Selner's most ardent supporters with savage glee. Those who died were carefully selected to drive in the helplessness of these influential men and women. It wouldn't do for these bunch of spineless sheep to continue to depend on her rival for support. Dr. Selner was merely Harry's sexbot. A role that Claris would hopefully make redundant over time.

In the end, the mess of blood, corpses and cauterized limbs gave a certain deckswabber a hell of a time of washing out the stains and burn marks.

* * *

Life went on after the incident. The five-ship pirate squadron cruised towards the destination specified by their clients. As soon as Harry reported that his ship was fit for combat, Captain Zymen began performing fleet-wide exercises. The constant drills were something Harry found quite unfamiliar. Zymen was of the firm belief that long-running simulations and unannounced drills were the best kind of drills. Simulations ran throughout the whole day. At night, sudden alarms threw him out of his bed. Even regular simulations were superseded by some other urgent scenario such as reactor failure or vacuum exposure. Though Harry had the privilege to skip the training, he participated anyway. To do otherwise would show a lack of commitment.

The stress of performing their tasks consumed the very consciousness of the _Eviscerator_. The culling, though harsh, faded quickly from everyone's minds as the drudgery of the drills dulled their minds. The common hardships forged a tiny bond of companionship between the different groups of slaves, scientists and pirates. Claris wasn't stupid enough that the sullen slaves had buried their seething animosity towards each other. Perhaps they could never get rid of it. But like the scientists, a few would start to come around and embrace their new lives. That tiny trickle opened the door for others to go over. The stream would eventually grow larger and larger until all that was left of the pond were the last few holdouts.

The time of battle neared. The ambush had been planned to death, though details were remarkably scarce. The only clue was that their target would try to sneak from Io to Europa through stealth and subterfuge. The convoy would likely disguise themselves as civilian ships such as transports and passenger liners to allay the suspicions of any traffic they might stumble upon. Their numbers, ship classes, and other strengths were unknown. The only clue Zymen provided to the others was that their squadron should be adequate against any threat they should face.

At least, that was what their clients thought. If the clients were actually reliable remained to be seen.

As the squadron neared the projected route of the diplomatic mission, Zymen started to ease up on the drills in order to focus the crew on the coming task. Though the actual navigational information on the convoy was sparse, some basic assumptions could be made that narrowed the convoy's route. Io and Europe were at their closest distance in this Jovian cycle, which contributed to the timing of the diplomatic mission. That still left a huge gap however, and there was ample space dust in Jupiter's orbit to provide cover against detection Differing routes were possible between the evolving clouds and hollow gaps that made up Jupiter's untamed space weather.

The dust combined with Jupiter's massive interference made for a harsh environment to keep track of. Beyond visible range, there was little one could do to penetrate the curtain. The squadron set themselves up in a search pattern, letting the _Lancelot_ and the _Arbalest_ use their superior sensors to scan the areas ahead and behind their route. The four fighters from the _Eviscerator_ along with the six from the _Swift Corsair_ extended their search pattern, even if some of their fighters were rather unsuited for scout work. Two strike craft were always positioned far ahead along their path, clearing the way for any ambushes and attempt to detect the convoy before the convoy could detect the squadron.

They eventually hit jackpot. The client's information turned out to be true in this aspect at least.

Zymen invited all the captains to a five-way private conference call. As the Evie's systems received the command and Harry inputted his approval, his chair went into conference mode.

The area around the captain's seat shimmered around him. Holographic haziness began to obscure him. Soft vibrating sensations saturated the area and somehow cut him off from the bustle and noise of the bridge. Eventually, the haze cleared up into an almost perfect vision of a digital conference room, only without a table. All the other four captains along with himself sat around a circle. The illusion seemed so real that Harry felt the temptation to reach out to touch someone. He didn't, of course.

The ecstatic ringleader graced them all with a smile. "Captains, the time that we have been waiting for is over. Our scouts have made a positive identification of our target. Whether one of the ships will actually contain the diplomats and corporate agents, I'm not too sure. But at least we are on the right track."

A globe shimmered in the middle of the room to reveal a snapshot of the fleet in the backdrop of Jupiter. Digital outlines and other enhancements defined their shapes and drew information on relevant attributes such as their length, displacement, armor thickness, thruster capacity, likely weapon mounts, and more.

"As you can see in our display, there are six ships in total, all but one of which mass more than the _Lancelot_. The two passenger liners are likely genuine, thus completely unarmed and harmless to our clutches. The four other ships present a problem. There's this large hauler the size of a battleship in the middle of their formation. What it carries is a complete mystery. Is it food? Commodities? Or mines? Heck, it might even hide a Class IX beam laser mount. This huge ship is an unknown quantity."

"What about the remaining three vessels?" Rysa asked as she analyzed the data closer.

"Ah, those are more interesting. There is this tiny corvette-sized courier vessel that undoubtedly has a sting. The two repair tugs look too sleek to be anything else but ships of war. What they are exactly is a bit of a mystery, but we can fairly assume that they would have weapon mounts hidden behind those repair platforms. From their size, shape and thruster capacity, my analysts have them pegged as destroyers."

Two destroyers. This alone made the convoy a contentious opponent. The pirate squadron only had one destroyer and a mishmash of frigates and mobile carriers. Their four light ships were practically featherweight in terms of firepower and armor. Though outnumbered, a well-coordinated destroyer pair could concentrate their firepower and destroy anything that closed in on them one by one. The _Lancelot_ would be pummeled into submission if she came at them alone, while the lighter classes would be demolished in just a few minutes of sustained fire. And that still left the courier and the heavy transport as wildcards.

"This looks like a very fine challenge. Think of our reputation if we manage to overcome this fleet." Urban interjected cheerfully, perhaps more to lift everyone's spirits than to say what he really felt.

Captain Rysa didn't look convinced. "What were our clients thinking that we can take on two destroyers and a smattering of other unknowns? At best, we are on par with this force. At worst, well…"

"The forces arrayed against us are formidable, there is no denying that." Zymen concluded. "But we have the advantage of initiative. We can position our ships in the best possible formation and plan out our tactics ahead of time. Here is what we are going to tackle them…"

He devoted the rest of the meeting to battle tactics and positioning diagrams. The navies didn't hold a monopoly in military planning. Pirates were also quite capable in this area, and Captain Zymen proved to be an accomplished fleet tactician.

* * *

There was a chance that the heavy freighter carried millions in credits worth of trade goods. There was also a chance that its hold carried many terrible weapons. Considering the nature of the mission, the latter seemed more likely. The ship had to be destroyed as soon as conveniently possible before it had the chance to unleash whatever bag of tricks it carried.

Then there was the pair of destroyers. In order to utilize their armor and firepower effectively, they had to operate in close conjunction. The trick would be to pin them down like one cornered a bishop in chess. The king was in this case one of the two liners. Whether the passenger ships split up or not, it did not matter. They did not even need to be destroyed. A pair of nimble fighters assigned to each liner was enough to push the destroyers into action. Meanwhile, the rest of Zymen's forces would move to take out the freighter and hopefully the courier vessel as well.

If everything went according to plan, two of the wildcards would soon be taken out, leaving the destroyers to be engaged at their leisure.

In the worst scenario, the enemy convoy would bunch up so close that the interlocking firing angles offered no safe approach to any target.

But Zymen had a plan for that, too.

The bridge of the _Eviscerator_ only recently rose to full alertness. A good rest and a hearty meal could mean the difference between winning and dying. This policy, recommended by Claris, meant that only fresh and eager officers and technicians occupied the duty stations.

Everyone went over their last-minute preparations. Navigator Jennings went over evasion tactics and firing angles with Helmsman Nicolas. Weapons Officer Stacy coordinated with Defense Officer Blake to plan out both offense and defense when it came down to it. Claris herself sat at the sensor station trying to pull out every scrap of data on the convoy that might give them a clue on what they were facing. The number of thrusters, the composition of armor, the symmetries and asymmetries – even the most insignificant detail provided clues. Professor Zhang had even joined in her work by analyzing the different alloys used in the construction of the ships and identify any relevant stress points.

The order to move out of their dust cloud finally came through.

"All hands, prepare for battle!" Claris called out as she hopped from her sensor station and took the captain's seat. This was the only location on the ship that could bring out the power of her command ring to its full potential. "We don't need to hide our emissions anymore, so raise the power matrix to eighty percent. Deck, prepare to launch all fighters in two minutes!"

The formation, with the _Lancelot_ at its head, speared through the cloud of obscuring particles and came into extreme sensor range of their target. Their speed differential and angle of attack meant that the convoy had no hope of slowing down and turning tail to escape successfully. If they did so, the pirates would eventually catch up and take potshots at their vulnerable thrusters. Angling to the sides was also fruitless since the pirates could just turn in unison. The only option left was a direct confrontation.

"We're approaching the split!" Jennings called out as he kept a close eye on the battlespace. "Three, two, one, now!"

The pirate squadron split in two. The _Lancelot_ under Captain Rysa along with the _Eviscerator_ and the _Light of Pericles_ under Captain Prestor constituted the main thrust of the assault by virtue of their close-ranged armament. The _Swift Corsair_ captained by Urban and the _Arbalest_ lead by Zymen would angle away from a direct approach, allowing them to keep at a distance and utilize their long-range armaments to provide bombardment support.

"Incoming enemy response! They're broadcasting a wide-band signal."

"Put it on the screen." Harry ordered calmly as he sat next to Claris on the observer's seat. As a wizard he couldn't contribute actively to the battle unfolding in front of him.

The face of a refined captain popped up on the main screen. The man had orange hair and sported a luxuriously trimmed beard. His uniform was starchy white with many frills attached to its surface. The bridge was painted in rich deep blue with expensive gold finishing. Unlike the captain's calm demeanor, it appeared the rest of the bridge crew were trying hard to keep their faces neutral. That was a good sign. This meant they weren't invincible.

"Attention incoming vessels." The captain began in a forceful voice that could easily carry over the din of chatter on a passenger liner. "Your aggressive approach is unacceptable according to the Universal Terms of Space Commerce. I demand you cease your attack pattern and alter your course. If you persist in your blatant aggression, then we have no choice but to designate you as pirates and report your infractions to the Trade Board of the Jovian colonies."

A short silence lingered on the bridge as the feed cut off. "Well," Harry started. "Seeing as they didn't try to beg or negotiate, this probably won't be a cakewalk for us."

That bore some worry. By ambushing from a long distance, their targets knew exactly what they were up against, as none of the pirate ships were able to hide their distinguishing features. The convoy vessels meanwhile still carried all of their fake accessories that disguised their true strength. It was difficult to anticipate their reactions. The only grace was that the enemy wouldn't have much time to analyze their sensor data and form appropriate countermeasures. In a way, that meant that both parties held a disadvantage. The only question was which disadvantage proved decisive.

"Captain Zymen has authorized the strike craft to launch!"

"Scramble the fighters now. Interceptors first, the scout and bomber as last."

The mobile carrier shuddered a little as the first interceptor catapulted out of the vacuum-exposed hangar bay. More shudders followed as the rest of the _Evie_'s complement of fighters launched out. Her sister ship the _Swift Corsair_ likewise spat out her complement of fighters and bombers. Both wings formed together into a pair of cohesive wings. Like a flock of crows sped forward from the warships towards their designated targets following a flanking curve. When they eventually closed in, it would be from the side, not the front.

"Begin loading a penetrator torpedo and arm it on my mark." Claris called out, which Stacy relayed to the launcher crew a few decks below.

This was the Evie's unique contribution. As a policing vessel, the mobile carrier had often resorted to hostile boarding. She was therefore fitted with the smallest class of torpedo launchers on her bow. While this addition came at the cost of hangar capacity and a medium turret mount, the benefits were well worth the sacrifice. While this made her less effective against smaller targets, against a big fat transport such as the one in the middle of the convoy it might as well be a turkey shoot. The only risk was getting close enough to accurately launch the torpedo without being pounded by one of those disguised destroyers. The Evie's armor wasn't rated to last long against the larger caliber weapons that a destroyer was sure to carry. The _Light of Pericles_ by her side would fare no better.

Luckily, the _Lancelot_ served as the squadron's shield. The valiant ship charged forward keeping both the Evie and the Perry behind her wake. This main thrust, along with the support ships and the fighter craft approaching from differing directions constituted a three-pronged attack. The enemy were cornered and be forced to take a choice soon. They could choose to either scatter in different directions, or bunker down to endure the attack with overlapping fields of fire.

"New response! The targets are tightening their formation around T1. L1 and L2 are using the transport as a shield. D1 and D2 are flanking her bow and stern. C1 is screening the approach angle of the incoming fighters."

The code words represented each enemy bogey. While their transponders squawked their own unique name, calling out the unfamiliar names on the bridge all the time only brought out more confusion. In order to keep each crew member abreast of each enemy ship, they were assigned with simple codes, with the first letter denoting the ship's class.

"Looks like Zymen is right." Zhang muttered as he stared at the sensor plot on his duty station. "He'll soon order us into an oblique approach."

And he was right. Jennings relayed the new course changes and the ship soon darted away from their collision course in favor of a glancing blow. Continuing straight on would expose their cards too soon. By maintaining some distance, the enemy could be kept in the dark of their ultimate intentions. If they knew a torpedo was coming, they would be ready to dodge as soon as the Evie fired. That had to be prevented.

"The _Arbalest_ is approaching extreme missile range. They're holding fire for now."

To fire missiles now was be a waste. Zymen was adamant that their first strike should be simultaneous in order to maximize the pressure exerted on their opponents. The missile frigate would also benefit from the extra time needed to refine the targeting data, increasing the effectiveness and survival odds of her ordnance.

"The _Lancelot_'s ventral beam mount is approaching its effective range."

The Class VII twin beam lasers mounted at the bow of the destroyer were more of an afterthought than anything else. They were primarily meant as chaser weapons. Their long range meant they were eminently suited to carve out engines and other subsystems from a comfortable distance. The downside was that the ship design didn't afford much heat absorption for the lasers. More severe was the fact that the mount only carried a demiturret. This meant that the compact turret could rotate only ninety degrees in both directions and incline the double barrels only forty-five degrees each way. This gave the turret a very limited firing angle.

"They're beginning to fire at full intensity."

Class VII or not, a beam laser was still a formidable weapon, and two of them packed serious firepower. The _Lancelot_ gorged out twin beams of razor hot red and sliced one of the repair ship's external instruments, cutting it apart and scorching it from the main body of the ship. The beam snapped off after a few seconds of sustained fire as the Lance reached her heat limit. Time was needed to cycle the heat out of her subsystems and allow a second volley.

"Three minutes until we reach optimal torpedo range."

They only enjoyed twenty seconds of quiet anticipation until a major development unfolded.

"Something's happening with T1!"

The convoy had finally decided to shed its disguise. The cargo hatch of the huge transport retracted outwards. Due to their viewing angle, the pirates could not yet see what dangers lurked within its depths. More worryingly however was that the two repair ships finally shed their fake props and prepared for battle. Already a few menacing turret mounts revealed themselves.

"D1 and D2 have discarded their camouflage! Both are now positively identified as destroyers. Their specializations are still unknown."

The debris surrounding the two warships still obscured their defining attributes. They could range from anything from beam laser cutters to flak battery carriers. The _Lancelot_ in front of them responded to the new development by shifting her target towards the heavy transport, designating it as the larger threat.

An incoming audio message arrived from Zymen. "Forget about the destroyers for now unless they have long-range weapons. Focus on destroying that transport first. Keep to the plan for now."

The _Lancelot_ plodded on, risking her armor to shield her lighter cousins.

"Two minutes until we reach optimal torpedo range."

"Arm the torpedo, set the burn to maximum acceleration." Claris ordered curtly as she closely inspected the transport's rear. What could be hiding inside? Something started to pop out of the large bay. "New sensor contact emerging from T1. It's.. it's a corvette! Heat signatures are rising from the cargo container! More corvettes are moving out! Fuck! The bastards!"

This was bad. This was really bad. The hauler looked large enough to carry a dozen corvettes. It was rather comical that their targets even attempted such a deception. Still, the ruse had been deviously effective. Even Captain Zymen's strategic mind had missed the possibility. Yet it was through this way that the Martians won from the Terrans in their first war. Sometimes old tricks came back to bite those who were too ignorant of them. This was one of those times.

Another message arrived from the squadron commander. Zymen looked livid. "Never mind coming in close now, we don't have the time! Rysa, change your bearing and rake T1 with your broadsides. Harry, fire off that torpedo as soon as the _Lancelot_ gives way. Now that it is launching corvettes, the tub shouldn't be able to dodge your torpedo. Fire another one just to make sure, I don't care about the waste. Zymen out!"

Two torpedoes against a single civilian target was indeed a great waste, but if they had to expend their limited stockpile of heavy explosives to destroy a corvette carrier, then so be it. A second corvette had already launched by now and a third launch would soon follow.

"Stacy, reconfigure the first torpedo to medium range and fire when ready. Load our Sunflare torpedo in the launcher and fire it off as soon as possible. We can't give them the time to launch their full complement."

"Aye aye ma'm, I'll be on it right away."

The destroyer eventually left the Evie a clear avenue of fire. With a great fiery thrust, the huge black torpedo left the launcher in a monstrous wake of flame. The penetrator torpedo blasted forward through the pushing of disposable ring boosters that contained only a small amount of fuel. Each successive jump caused a thin ring to fall off, clearing the way for the next ring to flame out its fuel. On and on the torpedo went, jittering ever faster towards the motionless heavy transport. The staccato method of propulsion left little in the way of maneuvering and guidance. This was both the torpedo's greatest strength and weakness. Because it was unguided, it could not be hacked. Because it could not be hacked, it could not do anything smart.

Sometimes though, stupid was good enough.

Simultaneously, the _Arbalest_ started to fire its full volley of ten Class VII anti-ship missiles. The Starhawks spread out into a wide dispersal pattern, blooming quickly over the distance and aiming straight towards the passenger liners designated as L1 and L2.

"D1 is moving to block off the missiles! D2 is joining C1 to screen off the approaching fighters. T1 is unobstructed!"

"The penetrator torpedo is about to impact!"

"Shit! One of the corvettes is moving to intercept the torpedo!"

When the transport launched its fourth corvette, its crew seemed to have given up and started to board the escape pods to get away before the torpedo impacted them. However, one of the recently launched corvettes moved to intercept the approaching projectile with its pulse turrets blazing.

Pulses were useless against a penetrator torpedo. Its mass and momentum were too great to divert, and its frontal cone was nothing but a mass of sharpened armor that was rated to punch through cruiser armor at terminal speeds. Nothing could stop the torpedo from its path.

"C3 is moving to collide with the torpedo!"

"Shit! Launch the Sunflare torpedo as soon as possible!"

The lone corvette courageously stepped into the path of the torpedo. Its impulsive action, though admirable, was ultimately in vain. The penetrator tore right into the bow of the corvette and speared through its flimsy armor. The penetrator kept on punching through, spacing segments and crushing bodies until it glanced the reactor on the way out. The corvette immediately blasted into radioactive fury, blinding the transport and washing the nearby area with deadly poison. The blast front pushed the torpedo outward, giving the slowed torpedo a small boost but nudging it towards a slightly altered course.

The slow and heavy elongated missile finally tore into the port side of the rectangular-shaped transport. It bypassed the core of the ship and instead punched through an important engine thruster and into the large and occupied cargo container. A few more internal explosions erupted, before a slightly larger one marked the passage of the torpedo itself. Flames gouged out of the torn hull sections and open cargo bay. The ship lay crippled from the grievous wound.

This didn't mean the corvettes inside were dealt with as well. A fifth corvette just jumped out of the rear of the transport.

"Direct hit on T1! The torpedo has likely destroyed three large objects within the bay."

"The Sunflare torpedo is primed and ready."

"Launch it immediately." Claris snapped, regretting the waste but understanding the necessity.

"Firing in three, two, one, now!"

Another shudder rang out on the ship as the launcher propelled the second torpedo with the force of ten roller coasters.

Lieutenant Claris issued another order. "Our job here is done! Back off from the enemy position!"

"The _Lancelot_ is bearing her starboard broadside against T1. She's firing her railguns now!"

A terrifying broadside of six Class VIII railguns was nothing to sneeze about. The _Lancelot_ was a slugger, meant to pound other ships into submission. While the railguns weren't turreted and could therefore not track rapidly moving targets without rotating the entire ship, the Lance didn't have to in most cases. The fixed-barrel design cut back on vulnerabilities and more importantly, space. More barrels could be fitted in the same volume, and more ammunition could be stored for the projectile hungry weapons. If the _Lancelot_'s broadsides were fully turreted then she only would have been able to bear three barrels per sides with only half the ammunition. In this configuration, the ship was a menace to anything larger than a fighter and smaller than a cruiser.

The man-sized kinetic bullets slammed into the helpless transport and pummeled every portion of the ship. The bridge caved in. Crew compartments flooded away into vacuum. Thruster nozzles broke apart. The huge cargo container slowly turned into Swiss cheese. The _Lancelot_ displayed her majesty unopposed. The two other destroyers were too occupied with the missile barrage the _Arbalest_ and the bomber craft were throwing at them to cover the unguarded hauler.

"The Sunflare torpedo is nearing impact! The _Lancelot_ has veered off and is presenting her armor towards the impact point."

Only a short moment passed until their screen brightened in an incredible explosion. A miniature sun appeared in the midst of the transport's former location as the expensive torpedo unleashed its lethal burning payload. Half of the entire transport disintegrated entirely. The rear portions that were not engulfed were buffeted by intense heat and force. As the transport's inner structure was completely unenhanced and unreinforced, its entire frame simply broke apart into a mangle of half-molten components. Nothing of the ship, its cargo, and the lingering escape pods survived the inferno. The sheer scale of the annihilation brought everyone on the Evie and the other ships to a momentary halt.

A great ship had just died in that instant, carrying who-knows how many corvettes in its agony.

Captain Harry was the first one to recover. "Shame we had to spend that torpedo so soon. That's five-hundred thousand credits down the drain. At least we won't have to worry about the transport anymore."

With four corvettes, one courier, and two destroyers still intact, their ordeal was far from over.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	18. I: The Reaping Circle - Repost

April 24, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Reaping Circle_

* * *

Naval battles came in many flavors. Some took hours to unfold. These were the typical set-piece battles, where ponderous warships tried to position themselves to achieve optimum advantage before entering weapons range. Other battles were decided in minutes.

But the one where the _Eviscerator_ and her sister ships were involved in was the kind of battle that held many uncertainties. The battle could sway to either side from one minute to the next. Captain Zymen's squadron held the advantage at the moment, having destroyed a re-purposed corvette carrier, but in doing so they expended one of their most potent weapons and approached perilously close to the two destroyers.

"The four corvettes are moving to screen the two liners in place of the destroyers." A sensor tech announced, announcing the most relevant news for the benefit of the entire crew. "The destroyers designated as D1 and D2 are boosting off to engage the _Lancelot._"

"Fuck." Claris cursed as she led her ship in the battle from the captain's seat. Her ring-hand waved off a command, showing the details of every ship's velocity. The results were just as she suspected. "The _Lancelot_ is too slow. She can't move back before the enemy destroyers get into range."

An open channel formed between Captain Rysa, Harry and Prestor. Her overstressed face appeared as a small display in the middle of Harry's information view.

"Gentlemen, it seems that Captain Zymen has made a miscalculation." Rysa grimly started. "The _Lancelot_ is inexorably pulled into engagement and I have no choice but to fight to the fullest. Will you two join me in my assault?"

It seemed a rather desperate plea, softened only by her steel determination. Say what you wanted about Captain Rysa, her mettle as an officer was unquestioned. However, despite her presence on the destroyer, the real power on the Lance lay in the executive officer's hands. How the two officers actually divided their power Harry did not know. Lieutenant Marlow was in his pocket, but Harry had left him on the _Lancelot_ with instructions to use his own discretion. Marlow would understand and obey.

Marlow had no other choice. Oblivion awaited him if he strayed from Harry's path.

Captain Prestor immediately gave his support. "The _Lancelot_ is my ship. I won't abandon her!"

"I'll commit the _Eviscerator _to your defense as well." Harry answered, though he wasn't obliged to. He had no stake in the slugging match that was about to unfold. But if this battle ended without killing the diplomats, then no one would receive any share. No, the time had not yet come to betray his comrades. Not yet, anyway.

"Incoming message from Captain Zymen to all other captains."

The pirate commander's hasty voice spilled over the speakers. "I can't coordinate your actions fast enough so use your own discretion. The _Arbalest, Swift Corsair _and our fighter complement will move to engage the liners and corvettes. If the enemy destroyers don't back off from their assault then we can assume they've gone renegade. If so, the _Arbalest _will provide you with limited long range support. Good luck and stay alive. Zymen out!"

As soon as his recording finished, Rysa filled in the void. "We're on our own for now. We still don't know what those to destroyers are configured for, but we won't achieve anything if we stay cautious. We'll have send in the _Light of Pericles_. Captain Prestor, is your crew willing to grapple one of those destroyers?"

This was not a decision to be taken lightly. Prestor muted his conference signal as the guest captain negotiated with Urban's crew. Actually signing up to a grappling crew meant that these men and women possessed more spine than regular spacers. That didn't mean that they would be willing to grab a crocodile by the snout. They were used to smaller prey.

Prestor finally returned to their impromptu conference. "They'll do it, but not in a naked run."

The first blow of the lead enemy destroyer abruptly interrupted their planning. Its stubby wings boasted a fearsome array of barrels that only now revealed their true nature. Large caliber pulse blasts rocketed against the surface of _Lancelot_'s armor, chipping and melting away at the layers with every hit. The second destroyer revealed its armaments as well, launching a swarm of unguided rockets towards the _Lancelot_. The Lance responded by bearing her broadside towards the enemy while simultaneously dodging from the path of the rockets. But there were simply too many to dodge them all.

"Bring us closer to the Lance! We have to cover her with our point defense!" Claris then turned to Stacy. "Load a shrapnel torpedo in the launcher."

A Shrapnel torpedo wouldn't cut it, Harry thought. "Belay that last order. Load a boarding capsule instead and target it at the missile destroyer."

"Are you going to board them yourself?" His Second asked, surprised that he would override her tactical judgment.

"No. Send in the new recruits instead as much as you can and cram them into a single boarding torpedo."

'_Are you sacrificing them to delay the destroyer?'_ Claris wanted to ask, but instead answered, "The capsule won't survive past their point defense."

"I didn't say that we should fire it now. As soon as you see an opportunity, fire the capsule."

As the _Eviscerator_ moved in to bear her point defense on the flood of rockets, the _Lancelot_ traded blows with the pulse destroyer. While the Lance exposed her barrels against the potent pulses, her railguns pounded the narrow profile of the enemy. Such a direct exchange of ordnance couldn't last very long. Armor plating smashed apart, sensors crunched into scrap, and eventually even the gun barrels warped under the withering fire.

"The _Lancelot_ is suffering heavy damage! She won't be able to sustain this level of punishment!"

Two of the Lance's railguns had been wrecked, with another cracked to pressure. At least the enemy pulse destroyer did not endure the railgun fire unscathed. Most of its frontal armor had been cracked, and its portside wing looked almost unrecognizable through the carnage.

Then, the missile destroyer fired another volley of missile clouds. With the _Lancelot_ occupied in its duel, it was up to the Evie and the Perry to disperse the volley. But there were too many rockets and too little time to shoot even half of them down. The rockets pelted the _Lancelot_'s armor, widening the cracks that the pulses had inflicted earlier. Important subsystems such as sensors and heat regulators blew up as the rockets scorch the surface of the Lance's hull.

"The _Lancelot_ has lost 38 percent of its forward sensor effectiveness. We're relaying our data feed to their computers to compensate."

"Blake! What is the status of the _Lancelot_ and D1's armor integrity?"

The defense officer quickly ran through the numbers. "The _Lancelot_'s starboard armor integrity is less than forty percent, while D1's armor integrity is still well above sixty percent. D1's bow plating is better armored."

The two combatants continued to trade out pulses and solid projectiles. The casualties that both sides were suffering must have been great, but the _Lancelot_ was worse off because her sideways profile gave her opponent a bigger target to hit. While particle pulses hit less hard, they could be fired almost continuously without any regard for heat or ammunition. Railguns on the other hand had to worry about warping the barrels and running out of ammunition.

The exchange of fire would not last much longer. One side had to give in eventually.

"Captain! Incoming message from Captain Prestor. He says he intends to grapple D2 after it fires its next rocket volley!"

"The fool!" Claris burst out as she slammed the handle of her seat. "D2's armaments are still intact! He won't be able to defend himself from counter-fire."

"Well, we better help him out then." Harry commented. "Send the boarding capsule out at the same time the _Light of Pericles_ makes its grappling run. Load up another boarding capsule after the first one is launched and fill it with Cleveland and the First Squad."

They waited it out as the Lance and D1 continued trading blows. Their limits were nearing their breaking point. D1 had the upper hand, but then the _Lancelot _decided it was time to use her trump card as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

The missile destroyer designated as D2 let loose another volley of massed rocket fire.

"The _Light of Pericles_ is accelerating to grapple!"

"Fire the boarding capsule now!"

The Lance had been waiting for this moment. Hidden boosters suddenly came to life along the surface of the destroyer and pushed the warship into a spin. It rotated rapidly for a ship its size. Counter-boosters flared abruptly in her spin, letting her armored roof face the incoming enemy fire. The pulses largely dispersed over the smooth armored surface, chipping only a fraction of armor with every hit. The impacting rockets created craters and other ugly marks, but not much else. The enemy had too little penetrating power to crack through the incredibly dense layer of the _Lancelot_'s roof.

Then, the _Lancelot_ spun again, revealing her undamaged portside railguns to the enemy. Six fully loaded and pristine Class VIII slug throwers poured into the exhausted D1 with ruthless abandon. The enemy destroyer's remaining wing snapped off under the focused barrage, and its nose protrusion crumpled into a pulp. With only two frontal pulse barrels left, the savaged pulse destroyer had finally lost its nerve. The pummeled warship engaged its own rotational boosters and retreated from the barrage. Its rear-mounted turrets threw back more pulses, their accurate fire stressing the Lance's exposed railguns.

Then, a stern launcher hidden under the main engines of the pulse destroyer fired a single ominous streak of light towards the _Lancelot_. It was a torpedo.

"Turrets, disable that the incoming torpedo now!"

All of their pulse turrets fired at the incoming projectile. The torpedo accelerated from a steady burn, which meant that it was probably not a penetrator torpedo. Still, a torpedo that size could carry any manner of devastation. The torpedo steadily closed the short distance to the pirate destroyer. The _Lancelot_ did not even bother to use its bulky railguns to track the rapidly accelerating danger. The ship spun along her axis again, just in time to bring up her armored roof against the dangerous warhead.

The torpedo struck the very center of the _Lancelot._

The shaped explosion vaporized metal and shattered plating. Explosive flames surged through the decks beneath. The detonation stabbed the _Lancelot_ like a dagger, wrenching the insides with its flaming wrath. Dozens of subsystems and their attending crewmen perished in that critical moment. The power throughout the ship began to fluctuate as vital channels were cut off. Thrusters sputtered into dying fits. Then, it simply shut off. The crippled _Lancelot_ drifted along in a helpless ballistic course.

The damaged pulse destroyer seemed tempted to turn around to finish the job, but the _Eviscerator_ moved to defend her sister ship. With only a single Class VII varilaser cannon the Evie did not seem like much of a threat, but her menacing launcher could still launch a devastating warhead.

The pulse destroyer opted to keep its distance, unaware that the _Eviscerator_ had no anti-ship torpedoes left.

Meanwhile, the _Light of Pericles_ made a mad dash towards the panicking missile destroyer. The armored beetle-like grapplers that sprouted from her bow jerked its joints to conform to the surface of its prey. The _Eviscerator_'s boarding capsule followed just behind the pirate frigate, using the bulk of the grappling ship to shield itself against incoming fire.

The desperate missile destroyer launched another rocket volley at close range, hoping to shatter the suicidal frigate before she could fatally grab on to her hull.

Many rockets hit, but the Perry absorbed the damage with her bolstered bow armor, only fragmenting a few non-essential systems. Finally, the frigate reached the rear portion of the missile destroyer and grappled the hull of her prey with her claws like a squid that snatched its prey. The half-collision jerked the missile destroyer from her stable path and the frigate's momentum continued to push the ship out of her course. The two powered grappler arms clamped against the contours of the hull armor and held on with brute mechanical strength. Hooks at the end of the arms burrowed into the plating to secure their grip. More drills extended along the arms to burrow deeply through the plating, tunneling into corridors and systems.

The _Light of Pericles _then discharged her powerful electric charge. Thick power lines came alive with energy, which eagerly ran along the drills and spikes buried deep within the missile destroyer's systems. The deadly charge short-circuited the wiring between the vital control crystals and fried many of those programmed conduits themselves. Automatic surge protectors kicked into action, protecting other vital systems and grounding the charge towards the destroyer's capacitors.

But this was not all the Perry could unleash upon her captured prey. The center snout of the frigate retracted itself from the bow and slammed into the hull. Its circular corkscrew shell whirled into a spin, drilling and shredding through the layers with maniacal energy. When it broke through a compartment, the drilling ceased. The hardened drill head split apart and a solid ramp slammed down in the open compartment. The entry hatch opened up, revealing a full platoon of armored pirates. They spilled into the ship and secured their entry point. They were out for blood and would not rest until the missile destroyer was in their hands.

* * *

Cyrus had been one with death. He danced to her tune and came back from the experience with a touch of her essence. The shade followed him ever afterwards, separating him from the mortal men around him. Only the Master understood. And the ghost. But no one else, not even the emphatic doctor or the scheming lieutenant.

'_They are so caught up in the intensity of their lives that they cannot see how Death closes in to envelop their helpless souls.'_

Once, he was a man of sin. His pleasures ran deep, from intoxicants, to holosimulations, to sex. Especially sex. He was as depraved as any pirate, relishing the chance to ravage women and see his fingers choke the breath from their naked bodies.

Even that has lost its meaning now. There was no beauty in such passing. His new existence thrived on something else now since his brush with Death.

He had to taste her once again. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her and take her out to dance as she taken him before. The blinding ecstasy in such a blending of life and death was exquisite. No chemical or carnal pleasure could ever match the thrill of risking your very life.

The others didn't understand. They looked at him with fear, whispered about him in confusion, and listened to him in incomprehension. There was a man, they would say, whose mind had been tossed into the loonie bin. How little these sheep really understand. The Master of Death himself walked upon the mortal plane among the undeserving, and they could only witness his eccentricities. Cyrus felt pity for these ants. They saw only the surface before them, ignorant of the vast heavens above their brittle heads.

They knew nothing.

The ignorant crewmen did not even understand why Cyrus was appointed as the _Eviscerator_'s wing commander. How could one so utterly changed and anti-social lead a band of pilots? He had no leadership abilities. He had no intuitive sense of tactics. His feel for the others pilots was almost negligible. His command went against every standard practice.

Yet he and his first wingman survived against the onslaught of the Orion Constellations. The veteran mercenaries had torn plenty of pirates apart. He and his sole wingman at the time had managed to survive and distract those who engaged him until his Master had forced an end to the conflict.

It ended too soon. There were too little deaths, and none by his hand.

This time, he would not retreat without drawing blood. Either he or one of his wing members would slay one of the corvettes guarding the liners. No more cowardice.

"I'm telling you, we're not going in the thick of that death trap!" Gimbal, the _Swift Corsair's _Wing Commander argued through the battlenet. "They've got two flak corvettes. That's F-L-A-K corvettes. We'd be shredded alive before we can even get close enough. Let the _Arbalest _do all the work."

What a weak and ignorant course of action. You did not gain victory by hiding behind your mother's skirt. The _Arbalest_ would run out of missiles before all the corvettes could be destroyed. Flak that was not spent on killing fighters would be spent on destroying missiles. Both the fighters and missiles had to charge in together in order to give one or the other a chance to succeed. Whether a missile or a fighter would perish was inconsequential. All deaths were alike.

"Your timidity has been noted, Wing Commander Gimbal." He answered derisively at his helmet comm. "But the E-Wing will not linger in the shadows and wait for the prey to starve themselves. We shall commit ourselves. Follow if you wish. I could care less."

"Captain Zymen won't stand for this, you stinking friggin' dumbass—" And Cyrus cut Gimbal off.

He instead focused on his wingmen. "Our Master is in peril. We must finish this rabble quickly and secure the liner before the _Eviscerator_ gets torn apart. We go in directly and attack the target they do not expect to be attacked."

"Which target, Deadman?" Backfire asked, using the call sign he had invented for Cyrus.

As the only civilian pilot in the _Eviscerator_'s fighter complement, Backfire was junior to them all. Nevertheless, his mandatory reserve training had stiffened him up just enough to be useful. As a scientist, he was wasted. As a pilot, he was an asset. He survived half an hour against the Orion Constellations as Cyrus' wing mate. That was good enough for the wing commander to trust, though the rookie still hesitated in pulling the trigger. That was something Cyrus had to stamp out of the young and promising man.

"Form up on me and prepare for a strafing run." Deadman ordered as he swung his interceptor in the direction of the buzzing corvettes. "We'll make an attempt against C5. It's the most isolated one."

"That's suicide, sir! We can't attack a flak frigate with just the four of us." Trident objected with a tone of fright.

Trident was a mercenary who fell into bad fortune and worse company. When Harry offered him a position on his crew and a scout fighter straight from the Trindebal market, he took the opportunity with both of his desperate hands. The revelations that followed afterwards were a shock. He only barely adjusted to the fact that magic existed and that his contract was more permanent than he imagined.

As the pilot of the Evie's only scout, Trident was uncomfortably aware that the flak could easily pass through his lightweight armor plating. Scouts weren't meant to participate in direct attacks. They were sensor platforms, spying vehicles, and at most hit-and-run attackers. To constrain his speed to the rest of the fighter wing negated his agility.

Housewife, the only female pilot in the wing, concurred with Trident. "The risks are too high. Even if we spread out and come at different angles, one of us will likely die."

The homely woman was another wayward mercenary that Harry had somehow roped into serving on his ship. Her skill with bombers was nothing to sneeze at, but a botched mission that saw most of her mercenary company killed off haunted her memories even to this day.

"My orders remain." Deadman stated flatly. "We _will_ attack. No discussion."

The three wingmen privately cursed at the Evie's wing commander, but the empty words hardly affected him. His wingmen would obey or he would shoot them down himself. He had made that clear to the three pilots on the first day he took them into his fold. Disobedience was not tolerated. They had to trust in his judgment.

His wingmen formed up in an uneven V formation, with the bomber trailing at the end. There was no real reason to take the V-shape. There was no aerodynamics in space. Still, even aesthetics held power. A good formation required discipline to maintain. It it took a significant portion of their limited mental processes to maneuver themselves in unison with him, preventing them from spending too much time doubting themselves.

They committed themselves to the attack, accelerating slowly but quickly gaining speed towards the defensive corvettes. Deadman veered his attack run towards the railgun corvette. It was the most obvious target due to its lack of point defense. But taking the predictable route only exposed them to the traps that lay beneath. As soon as they got close, his wing would veer off towards the flak corvette.

The sudden attack by the E-Wing forced the six craft comprising the S-Wing to follow along lest they waste the chance to overwhelm the defenders. Captain Zymen, who currently coordinated everyone's actions on the _Arbalest_ missile frigate, noted his two fighter wings breaking off towards the entrenched corvettes and silently swore to himself.

"Fucking idiots, I told them not to risk themselves." He ordered the next missile barrage to be aimed at the two liners in order to provide some cover.

The _Arbalest_'s missile pods fired out ten Streaker missiles towards the two prizes. This forced the corvettes to split their attention. Would they choose to take out the missiles or the fighter wings? Or would they spread their attention in an attempt to stay off both? Either way, something had to give.

Pulse fire from the other corvettes started to pour in the E-Wing's direction. There was little to worry about as long as Deadman guided his wing along subtly weaving paths to defeat the enemy tracking software. As they got closer however, the pulses started to improve in their accuracy. It did not help that they were on a direct approach towards one of the pulse corvettes. The targeted gunship seemed to accept their challenge with grim reality, bringing its thrusters online to build momentum but focusing most of its energy into its turrets. Pulse fire from the other corvettes started to track the fighters, adding to their danger.

But Deadman's wing was not the only threat to them anymore. Gimbal's wing joined his crazy flight and dove in towards another corvette, drawing its attention away. The more immediate threat of the inbound Streaker missiles caught the attention of the two flak corvettes. The huge barrels mounted on their bottom plates fired canisters filled with electrodust and armor-piercing flechettes recycled out of industrial waste. The expanding clouds of debris engulfed the missiles, detonating most of them in storms of flame and radiation.

Their distraction proved fatal. As Deadman neared their decoy target, he abruptly ordered a sharp turn to the side, bleeding off much of their relative speed but allowing them to catch the closest flak corvette off guard. The agile gunship was just in the process of spinning around to bear its shotgun barrels towards the incoming wing when Housewife released her payload. The damage the other fighters inflicted on the gunship with their pulses paled in comparison to the destruction of those two bombs.

"Yeehaa!" The female pilot roared excitingly. "Let's see them survive that!"

The Ramage guided bombs latched onto the flak corvette's heat signature and impacted its armor before it could even fire. The bombs – sped along by Housewife's momentum – crunched against the corvette's armor, unable to penetrate its armor completely, but then again it didn't have to. The detonation that followed wrecked the outer sections of the corvette and turned half of the ship's interior compartments into a molten wasteland. The forgotten corvette spun uncontrollably away from the liners and its sister gunships.

"Looks like Gimbal's wing scored only a bit of damage." Trident commented and passed the sensor data to the rest of the wing.

Deadman looked at his digital sensor plot and scanned the damage one of the pulse corvettes suffered. The ship took a nasty blow that breached a portion of its bow and wrecked two of its four pulse turrets. The other two were still operable however, but at least his wing could exploit the newly created blind spot.

A furious burst of pulse fire suddenly erupted towards their direction. The tightly concentrated burst caught the wing off guard.

'_Emergency capacitor discharge!' _Deadman thought frantically as he ordered his fighter wing to scatter. The heated pulse fire tracked the bomber, correctly identifying it as its largest threat. Housewife dodged in terror, letting her panic overwhelm her senses. Her mistake almost cost her life. One pulse shattered a piece of her wing, unbalancing her craft. The tumbling was all that saved her from a direct hit from a second pulse. The pulse hit the nose of her bomber, crushing it and destroying the sensitive targeting sensors.

"Fuck! I'm hit! It's nothing critical, but I won't be aiming as well as last time!"

A new development unfolded, prompting Trident to warn his wingmates. "The surviving corvettes along with the courier are bunching up. They've given up on protecting the liners."

"Then they're definitely mercenaries." Deadman concluded. "That makes this job easier. We should come around for a second strafing run."

"Wait! Their thrusters are active. They're heading somewhere."

It took only seconds to extrapolate their flight path. "The _Arbalest_! They're going to destroy our missile frigate at the cost of their liners. They're out for blood!"

Indeed, like their destroyers, the corvettes realized the futility in letting themselves picked off one by one. The best defense was offense. Taking the initiative and attacking the _Arbalest_ in close range where it was the weakest was the best option for survival. They would have to give up the liners to the enemy, but dead passengers were useless passengers. You couldn't sell or ransom off a dead slave. Besides, they were hardly thinking about protecting the passengers at the moment. The destruction the pirates had accomplished a few minutes earlier started to become a personal matter to the defenders.

"Fucking ill-trained mercs. They're too caught up in their anger to do the smart thing and flee." The wing commander muttered privately, then switched his comm to relay his orders. "Trident, take out the engines of those liners and disable anything else that could be a threat. As for the rest, we have to take out those mercs before they wreck the _Arbalest_."

Both fighter wings had left their scouts behind to disable the liners while the rest turned back to overtake the speeding corvettes. The _Arbalest _caught on to the corvettes' intentions, and turned tail to accelerate away like a lumbering ox running away from a pack of wolves. The _Swift Corsair,_ possessing a modicum of Class VI turrets, soared in front of the _Arbalest_ to shield her vulnerable thrusters. The mobile carrier didn't have much in the way of armor, but her turrets would make her a formidable opponent at close range.

The _Arbalest_ fired another set of Streakers. Unlike the previous volley, this one seemed to bloom apart like a maturing flower, arcing in different directions before turning back to converge on the closing corvettes. The scattered pattern meant that the corvettes had to split their attention in different directions. Pulses sped out of their turrets towards the incoming missiles, shooting them down one by one. Flak joined the chorus and blew two missiles apart at once.

One missile managed to slip through the damaged pulse corvette's perimeter and impacted the damaged hull to rupture that section further. Lights blinked on and off, and its thrusters momentarily ceased. The crippled ship slipped further behind from its comrades. It took a minute for the gunship to get half of its engines working again. The pulse corvette desperately tried to catch up to its group.

But it was too late. The pirate fighter wings caught up to the burning and leaking corvette and raked the ship with their Class V pulse lasers and railguns. The strike craft didn't even bother fire their missiles, knowing that their directed weaponry would be enough to penetrate the corvette's armor and damage its internal systems. The weight of eight fighters in that one single pass was enough to blank out the corvette's entire systems, leaving it dead in space. The fighter wings sped on to catch the surviving corvettes.

"Shit! We're too late!"

The three corvettes reached the pair of pirate ships before the fighters could catch up and the _Arbalest_ could let off another missile volley. The remaining pulse and flak corvettes raked the _Swift Corsair_ with their own directed weapons, punching holes and disabling systems as they neared. The mobile carrier staggered under the fire. Her own turrets fired back at the incoming attackers, to little use. Unknown to the _Swift Corsair, _the real threat had yet to reveal itself.

The courier vessel suddenly launched their escape pods as it neared the pirate ships.

"It makes no sense. They haven't even fired a single shot. What the.." Backfire trailed off as he tried to figure out why its crew would abandon so soon.

"It's a kamikaze run!" Housewife shrieked into the comm. "The courier is going to collide with the _Corsair_!"

The fighters could not catch up to the courier. Having no other choice, Housewife fired her remaining two missiles, which rapidly sped towards the abandoned gunship. The missiles struck its engine thrusters, rocking the ship and causing its course to shift.

Too late. The courier struck the aft of the _Swift Corsair_, which still guarded the _Arbalest _even in this final moment. A weight that massed up to a third of the mobile carrier crashed in her great bulk and hammered right into her hangar bay and engine room. The torn fragments of the courier's hull struck the fusion reactor powering the entire ship head-on. The damage rendered the delicate systems that regulated the fuel and siphoned the heat into scrap.

The flaming ball of light that engulfed the entire mobile carrier came only an instant later, swallowing both vessels in nuclear fury. Whole compartments vaporized. Many other components flung into space in molten radioactive heat. The people inside didn't even have a chance to escape. Captain Urban died amongst strangers. It was a long time coming for him.

Aboard the _Arbalest_, Captain Zymen briefly mourned the passage of his ship. Why, he wondered, was he even pressing this fight? He was only doing it for the credits. That the risks they now faced actually matched the high rewards for this job was something he had not fully considered. This risky venture had cost him dearly. In this aspect, piracy was like any trade. If you overreached, you died. Many other pirates had met their maker this way. Greed brought many to their doom.

The credits didn't matter anymore. All that Zymen could think about is the loss of his ship, his friends and his wealth.

He had to crush the enemy and grind their under his boot. His fallen comrades demanded blood. Their deaths should not be in vain.

Since when had this battle ceased to be a simple job and turned into a mortal struggle? It was so easy to toy with human emotion. Anger boiled within Zymen's gut. Even now, the loss of his personal ship drove him to annihilate the mercenaries, never mind that they were only guilty of taking revenge for their own fallen brothers.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Round and round the circle of vengeance turned. Each revolution reaped another life. The wheel would continue to spin until there was nothing left to feed its hunger.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	19. I: Entry Breach - Repost

April 28, 2011  
Repost: November 11, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Entry Breach_

* * *

The battle between the pirate squadron and the passenger liner escort had been raging for over half an hour. The mobile carrier _Eviscerator_ and the missile frigate _Arbalest _were as yet undamaged, but their sister ships were not so fortunate.

The railgun destroyer _Lancelot_ suffered grievous damage from an explosive torpedo. The grappling frigate _Light of Pericles_ took on a full rocket volley before she managed to grapple with the source of the attack. The pirates from the _Light of Pericles_ and the boarding capsule sent by the _Eviscerator_ were embroiled into a boarding action inside the enemy missile destroyer at this very moment.

Then there was the _Swift Corsair_. The lightly armored mobile carrier valiantly guarded the _Arbalest _from the approaching enemy corvettes, but it was of no use. A corvette-sized courier vessel collided with the aft portion of the _Corsair_, damaging the containment of the fusion reactor deep inside the ship. The terrible nuclear explosion that ensued had completely annihilated both ships with all their hands, including the old Captain Urban.

The _Arbalest _was in a precarious situation now. Her large but slow launcher tubes were her main armaments. The meager collection of pulse turrets embedded on her hull were not threatening enough to discourage the remaining two enemy corvettes. Two wings of pirate fighters were gaining on the mercenary corvettes, but most of their heavy ordnance was already spent.

Would the corvettes reach the helpless missile frigate before the strike craft could catch up? Pulses shot out of the fighters' weapon mounts, trying score a hit on the lumbering corvettes. A few pulses hit their mark, but scored little damage on the gunships.

Captain Zymen saw the approach with his own two eyes on the bridge at the captain's seat. The _Arbalest_'s executive officer was a likable fellow who had graciously given him command authority aboard the missile frigate due to his status as squadron commander. His need to track the status and progress of other ships meant that he had to have an extensive overview of all the ships, and only the captain's seat was powerful enough to provide him with that level of detail.

Right now, all he could think about is how to avoid the incoming gunships. The _Arbalest _was a support ship, designed to bombard the enemy from afar. She had the firepower of a destroyer, but the armor of a hovercar.

"How long until the tubes are reloaded?" He asked furtively.

"Sixty-five seconds."

That was too slow. The corvettes would pass over the _Arbalest_ in just twenty seconds. At least they weren't ejecting escape pods. They only had to survive the initial pass before the fighters caught up and the missiles finished loading.

A rumble ran over the ship, followed by another.

"The pulse corvette is firing! Our armor is barely holding!"

"Helmsman, spin the Arbie now!" Zymen ordered stiffly as he saw the ship's green status displays turn yellow. "As fast as the inertial dampeners will allow!"

"Aye aye, sir!"

The _Arbalest _might not possess much in the way of armor, but her comparatively light mass allowed her thrusters to maneuver more nimbly. She took full advantage of this as her rotational boosters flared, putting the ship into a mad spin along her axis. The pulses that frequently struck the same area were now splattering over the entire surface of the missile frigate, spreading the damage out. It was a good tactic to increase the durability of the ship, but it was a defensive measure only, for the _Arbalest_ could not fire off her missiles while she was tumbling like a top.

"The flak corvette is firing corrosive flechettes at us!"

"Shit! Increase the hull's magnetic repulsion. Cut the thrusters to rout more power to our defensive matrix. We don't need to spin any faster."

Though flak weapons were usually utilized against smaller targets, they were not completely impotent against heavy armor. Heated corrosive flechettes were insidious weapons that buried shallowly but tenaciously onto solid plating. The corrosive elements contained in the flechettes would leak out and wear down most types of armor. One volley did not accomplish much, but flak guns fired a canister of shot by the second. A dozen hits more and the _Arbalest_'s armor would become nothing but a brittle shell. The pulses hitting over its surface were also hitting harder, damaging vital components and creating more grooves to exploit.

Then, the two corvettes passed over the _Arbalest_. Only a few rear-fired pulses hit the missile frigate. The fighter wings passed over the frigate a dozen seconds later.

"Damage report! How bad are we hit?"

"Armor integrity throughout the ship is down by thirty-seven percent! Some of the armored covers protecting the launcher tubes are shot apart and two launcher have been rendered inoperable! If the flak frigate comes in for another pass, they'll blow. We can't let the corrosive flak get into the tubes."

"The corvettes are curving around for another high-speed pass! They'll intercept us in thirty-five seconds!"

"Counteract our spin! How far are the tubes reloaded?"

"Done sir!" The missile officer announced, but his eyes took on a panicked sheen. "But there's a minimum range on these missiles. If we detonate them early, we'll get caught in the blast."

"Corvettes incoming in twenty seconds!"

More blasts ruptured the frigate. As the _Arbalest _ceased her spin, the pulses started to cascade on the same portion of the armor, cracking it and penetrating through the cheap plating.

"We don't have any time left." Captain Zymen concluded stoically. "Arm the missiles and fire them immediately. Detonate them at ten kilometers off our perimeter!"

The missiles sped off the launch tubes. Zymen barely had time to send off a warning to the pursuing fighters before the missiles would detonate.

"Everyone, brace yourselves!"

The flak corvette shot down half of the nearest missiles, but that was not enough as the remaining for warheads exploded in electromagnetic force, engulfing the area around the impact points with waves of nEMP. The corvettes were caught full-on, frying most of their systems, including their thrusters. The fighter wings, having had barely any warning at all, were only partially affected as they fled the blast front.

The _Arbalest _however was not so lucky. The wave front penetrated easily through her cracked and brittle armor, frying many systems and causing the bridge to lose control over the entire ship. Half the lights darkened as the ship sped off uncontrollably as a single main thruster heated up into overburn. The ship was disabled, but so were the corvettes.

The unaffected fighters of the _Eviscerator _and the _Swift Corsair_ formed into a single wing. They were going to end the corvette threat once and for all. They sped quickly towards the floating hulks, aware that their opponents could both recover from the EMP at any moment.

"Fire everything you have at the flak corvette!" Deadman informed the wing over his comm. "Once that bird is gone, we can finish off the pulse corvette at our leisure."

"Roger that wing lead."

The fighter wing of seven birds neared. Their Class V weapons fire blasted the flak corvette, every shot hitting its mark as the corvette made no attempt to dodge or alter course. Compartments decompressed and turrets smashed into useless bits. The helpless corvette turned more and more into slag as the weight of an entire fighter wing proved too much for the gunship. Escape pods shot out of the dead ship.

"We did it! We won!"

"Shut it, Backfire. There's still the pulse corvette."

Deadman's caution was warranted. By the time the fighter wing finished their pass, the pulse corvette regained control over its systems. Its rotational boosters spun the bulky craft around in order to let its turrets face the stranded missile frigate. The turret barrels came alive as its Class VI pulser fire raked the weakened armor, boring into the hull and destroying more and more compartments with each set of hits.

"The damn corvette is going after the Arby's reactor! It'll blow unless we save her!"

"Don't do it!" Deadman screamed in his comm. "Keep your distance!"

The _Arbalest_ couldn't be saved. They were more than ten seconds away from weapons range and the corvette had already breached the engine room. Any pulse that followed next would have a large chance of hitting the reactor casing.

"Get back here Backfire!" Deadman shouted in his comm. "We can't save the _Arbalest_! She's a goner!"

"To hell with your mojo-addled mind!"

The foolish boy plunged towards the pulse corvette with reckless abandon. Backfire fired his own pulses at the corvette, not even bothering to use computer aids to enhance his aim and actually let him hit the firing turrets.

And then, the _Arbalest_'s reactor blew, ripping apart the entire ship and sweeping away the corvette and Backfire's lone interceptor with heat and debris.

Scores of pirates died in that blast. Backfire's interceptor tumbled out of the blast zone in an uncontrolled spin. The fate of its pilot was uncertain.

As for the rest, none could have escaped. Captain Zymen and the crew of the _Arbalest_ were just one of many souls that lifted away from their mortal shells this day.

* * *

Captain Prestor, guest captain of the _Light of Pericles_, could not stand idle in the ensuing struggle. The Perry had locked tight onto the missile destroyer and would not let go until the crew of one or the other ship was subdued. Half of the Perry's crew went out through the boarding drill to meet the missile destroyer's unprepared crew in hand-to-hand combat. Despite being outnumbered by as much as five to one, the pirate boarders were seasoned cutthroats who all wore quality boarding armor. The first vac-suited mercenaries they encountered carried only sidearms and were easy prey to their pulse rifles and plasma guns.

When Prestor himself reached the foothold the boarders secured with his borrowed set of boarding armor, he whistled appreciatively at the carnage around him. He turned to the boarding chief that led the incursion.

"Where do you need me?"

The tough chief looked at the captain through his transparent helmet cover and snarled. "Somewhere out of the way, like right here. I don't need no soft-skinned pansy wrecking our routine."

"That's not an acceptable choice, chief. Point me at a direction and I'll take care of it. Permanently."

The boarding chief had plenty of experience in dealing with stubborn officers. This one couldn't be persuaded no matter what. Better to minimize the damage than to prevent it, then. The chief brought up a schematic of the ship's class and pointed at a compartment somewhere up deck.

"Suit yourself then." The Perryman shrugged and pointed towards the front of the ship. "Last we heard the _Eviscerator_ launched a boarding capsule that was supposed to penetrate somewhere up the bow of the ship. Since we're operating on a secure communication link, you need to get this comm crystal," The chief handed the small crystal over to the captain. "Over whoever the fuck's in charge so we won't blast each other when we turn the corner. Got that?"

The route would be long and Prestor would pass by many compartments. Plenty of enemies then. "Perfect."

And so he stepped into the abyss. With his personal Class II pulse rifle, he wove his way forward beyond the beachhead the Perrymen had established. Most of the boarders were about to take over the reactor room and the engine room and secure them as fast as possible. Without control of at least the reactor room, the defenders could overload the reactor through countless means, from disabling the magnetic containment to flushing out the cooling water. Control over the reactor had the added benefit that the power provided to the rest of the ship could be curbed. With that much capability in their hands, they could disable the air supply, the weapon systems – even the gravity that kept everyone's feet on the deck.

As the boarders prepared to assault the barricaded reactor, Captain Prestor went on his death march. Nothing could sway him from avenging his crew. They were partners, the finest bunch of pirates he had ever worked with. Together, they killed, raped, stole and destroyed whatever obstacle was in their way. They pledged each other to save as much of their shares as they could towards a new ship, and when they finally saved up enough for a used destroyer they snapped it. The _Lancelot_ was their pride and baby. To see her gutted from a torpedo was a heart wrenching sight. He had to kill the ones responsible. While the crew of the missile destroyer didn't launch the torpedo, they were the next best alternative.

So he simply gutted them all. Sheer audacity drove him to meet the ill-equipped spacers of the destroyer in full combat. He sprayed them all down with his high-powered pulses, sometimes even surprising those coming to meet him with boarding armor. Only grenades managed to scorch his armor, but he had enough experience with his suit to run away or dodge from an incoming explosive. The rest the enemy crew came up with was nowhere as dangerous. The people crewing the missile frigates and missile destroyers were always soft. Hardly any of them had experience in close-quarters combat.

It was a slaughter.

Half-way in his trip, the enemy wised up and avoided him in whatever scheme they were plotting net. The corridors were empty, but every hatch locked and sealed themselves. It was kind of annoying to use his boarding armor's plasma cutter to drill through every obstacle, but there was no choice. If his opponents thought to cool him down, they were sorely mistaken. The frustration at not being able to move freely throughout their ship only fanned his frustration more. He had many more friends and comrades to avenge.

He suddenly stumbled upon a pack of wandering boarders. Prestor was half-ready to shoot them until he recognized their color scheme.

"Whoa man!" The lead pirate exclaimed as he lifted his own pulse rifle. "We ain't your enemy man! You from the Perry?"

Captain Prestor frowned from the dark-skinned man's informal tone, but lowered his rifle in a sign of nonaggression. "I am Captain Prestor of the _Lancelot,_ and guest captain of the _Light of Pericles_."

The pirate whistled appreciatively. "So you're one of those bigwigs, huh? Whatcha doin' all the way down here?"

"To deliver this." And the captain handed over the communication crystal.

The man recognized it immediately and inserted the crystal into a dataport on his suit. Some kind of transmission popped up in his visor. The pirate was probably in some sort of discussion with the Perry's boarding chief. After a minute or two, the transmission cut. The lead boarder turned to the rest of his ragtag crew.

"Right, guys. The Perry's given us the task to storm the bridge. So let's do it."

"So which way's the bridge?" A young boyish voice asked in the small crowd. "Anyone got a map or something?"

The black man slapped his visor. "Didn't I transfer the file to your HUD already? Like, three times?"

"But this fucking interface is so stupid. I mean, how retarded is it to use finger movements to select commands? Jeez, everyone uses eye-tracking nowadays."

Another boarder thumped the kid on the helmet. "You idiot. When you're in the middle of a fight you need your eyes on top of everything. This isn't a game."

"Could've fooled me." The kid muttered.

Since this was rapidly going nowhere, Captain Prestor decided to step in. "Don't you have any experience in boarding combat?"

Quite a lot of the boarders in front of the captain confessed that this was their first time performing a hostile boarding. They were all former slaves, bought from the Trindebal slave market by Dr. Selner and trained by Chief Cleveland in the past few weeks to take up marine combat.

Obviously, they could have used more work. Avenging his comrades could wait. Prestor needed to get these useless goons in shape if he were to have any chance of assaulting the fortified bridge of a military destroyer.

Because one way or the other, he would make up for the lives that had been lost.

* * *

Almost all of the mercenary and pirate forces were out of the picture at this stage of the battle. The corvettes and the pirate's long-range support had mutually annihilated themselves, leaving only the fighter wings alive from the destructive engagement. Meanwhile, the missile destroyer was embroiled in boarding combat, taking the _Light of Pericles _out of consideration. Elsewhere, the crippled _Lancelot_ was still largely inoperable and did not look as if she would wake up soon.

That left victory in the hands of either the _Eviscerator _or the pulse destroyer that had tangled head-to-head with the _Lancelot_. Its frontal armor was largely smashed apart by the brutal railgun projectiles launched by the Lance's broadsides, but its rear portions were largely left pristine. Weak point-defense turrets was all that protected the ship's aft, and would have been enough to take care of pesky corvettes.

But the biggest threat to the Evie was the destroyer's rear-mounted torpedo launcher. Torpedoes were large, sluggish, and not that well suited to hit small and agile targets. The _Eviscerator_ however was a ship decked out with heavy layers of armor. While the weight was useful in dealing with fighters and corvettes, against torpedoes it just reduced her dodging capabilities by a significant margin. If impaired, the mobile carrier could easily be taken out by a shipkiller torpedo.

While the _Eviscerator_ held her own torpedo launcher, a ship of her size couldn't carry a large magazine of torpedoes. The delicate and destructive warheads had to be stored in large specialized bays. The bulky and sophisticated magazine racks protected the missiles from any electronic interference as well as radiation, kinetic impacts, gravitational fluctuations and a host of other space-borne dangers. Along with the fact that the _Eviscerator_ had to carry boarding capsules, there wasn't much she could carry in the way of ordnance. In fact, there was precious little left in her stores.

"What are our choices?" Harry asked grimly from the observer's seat.

He was staring along with Claris at the image of the retreating pulse destroyer. The _Eviscerator _was right on its heels, firing her varilaser cannon in sustained pulses in order to chip away at the destroyer's toughened thruster nozzles. The tough and heat-resistant components didn't yield easily to the pulses, and even if they were destroyed, it would not affect the battle in any major way. The Evie could have gained on the destroyer or even overtake it, but Claris chose not to. Coming closer would only invite more disaster. The risk was unacceptable.

After a minute of thought, Claris finished her analysis on their current situation.

"We're at a stalemate. Our main gun doesn't have enough firepower to go past the exhaust and deal any damage to the internal engine components. Their rear-mounted turrets aren't dealing much damage to us at this range, and their torpedoes are no threat for the same reason."

"So there's more risk for us if we get closer, is that right?"

"That's correct, captain. The enemy is currently engaging their maximum thrust to render our main gun ineffective, but if we can get closer, we have a better chance of piercing through that defense or hit another critical subsystem. Stil… at short range those point defense turrets can concentrate their fire more effectively and start piercing our armor. If they hit any of our boosters, we might not be able to evade whatever torpedo they would launch next at close range."

So rushing close was not a good idea. But all this pussy-footing around was making Harry impatient. "So what now, are we just going to stay out of range and hope that we can score a lucky hit on them?"

The face of his Second turned grim. "The pulse destroyer is repairing and jury-rigging its bow sections as we speak. The _Lancelot_ is probably doing likewise, but since we are moving away at the destroyer's full thrust, we will soon be out of range of the _Lancelot_'s protective envelope. Our only chance to destroy the enemy vessel before it does the same to us is stall and wait for our fighter wings to relieve us. They're ten minutes out by our last projections."

"Will they arrive to our location in time to engage the pulse destroyer?"

"It's very difficult to estimate the destroyer's repair cycle, but I guess it can reach semi-operational combat effectiveness in four to eight minutes."

That was too fast. They could not wait that long for their fighters to arrive in time to help. The only other option was to get close. The question was how.

"This is obviously unacceptable." Harry said decisively, glaring at the single remaining threat coasting away at thousands of kilometers of distance. If there was one thing he hated the most, it was being powerless. "I'm not going to let this piece of junk roll over us because we were too timid to get close. What torpedoes do we have left?"

Weapons Officer Stacy answered immediately. "A shrapnel torpedo, non-corrosive, and an nEMP torpedo, radial variant, which means it will affect us as well as the target at this range."

"The _Arbalest _already tried to do detonate her nEMP missiles while within their blast range, and it hasn't worked out well for her." Claris remarked immediately. "The pulse destroyer's hull is half-open at the front so the nEMP will be more effective, especially at point blank range. We'll be more distant from the target so we'll be much less affected. However, our ship is smaller and the energies might.. well.."

It took Harry only a few seconds to realize the implications. How could he have been so stupid to have forgotten this side effect. "It'll screw up my magical wards. At best, the EMP would be so weak it wouldn't weaken them much. At worst, the sudden stress of forces created by the withdrawing magic might disable or even rupture the equipment that were warded."

They couldn't draw back and launch the torpedo at extreme range. The destroyer would just laugh at the pathetic projectile and shoot it down at their leisure or dodge it entirely.

"We also have a boarding capsule left." Stacy supplied almost absently as she went over the ordnance list.

Was that a good idea to use? With the destroyer closely watching their every move, Harry couldn't repeat the stunt he had performed on the Orion Constellations' carrier. The destroyer's rear was practically undamaged despite the Evie's constant pulser fire, so their sensors were still at peak efficiency. If only they could engage their damaged front before the destroyer had a chance to repair its systems.

What magic could Harry use to gain an advantage this far away?

"I have a plan." He finally announced, and stepped off his chair. His wand was already in his palm. He turned to his lieutenant. "Order the launcher crew to take off the shrapnel torpedo from the rack and unscrew its warhead. Take it to the workshop and open its ordnance. I need to be able to touch the shrapnel."

"What about the boarding capsule? It's still in the launcher filled with Cleveland and his Firsts. Do you wish to unload it, captain?"

"Please do."

The determined wizard left the bridge crew puzzling over his motives as he went down to the armory to fetch his boarding armor. He didn't feel comfortable wearing the cold lifeless shells, but there wasn't any help to it. He needed to operate in space without getting roasted by radiation and extreme temperature fluctuations. At least the expensive, custom-fitted armor he bought at the Trindebal boutique sector was a little less bulky than the regular variant.

* * *

The preparation time took longer than the ten minutes the destroyer needed to bring its ship under full control. The tables had turned during this period of preparation. This time it was the _Eviscerator _that was being chased. The two intact pulse cannons mounted beneath the jaw of the enemy vessel had been blasting the small mobile carrier ever since, though most of its bolts went wide as the Evie dodged madly. She drew back towards the _Lancelot_, which was still offline, though the latest readings offered some hope. That didn't mean they could rely on the Lance to get back into shape before the pulse destroyer could finish her off. The Evie had to do this job alone.

Lieutenant Claris didn't really understand Harry's logic. The job was to destroy the diplomatic party on board one of the two liners. With their escorts out of the way, the Evie's fighter wing could easily eliminate them. Indeed, a pair of scouts held them practically by their throats and could blast their reactors at any moment. But Harry forbid such actions. Why? It wasn't like the few millions they would earn from selling the passengers into slavery would make any noticeable impact. With only the _Eviscerator_ and the _Light of Pericles_ left alive, they could earn more than a hundred million credits, more if the Perry conveniently blew up. That was what she would have done if she were in charge.

Instead, Harry was about to risk himself for some obscure reason that she couldn't quite grasp. What was at stake that forced him to win control over the battlefield? Did he want to salvage the wrecks for more credits? Or take them over to expand his firepower? There was something more at stake.

"Ma'm, the modified shrapnel torpedo is loaded and ready to launch. Just say the word."

"Alright, thank you Stacy." Claris had been waiting for this. "Helmsman, turn the ship about, a 180 degrees. I want a straight shot towards our chaser!"

"Aye aye ma'm."

The Evie's directional boosters rotated her swiftly around so that she was travelling backwards in space, with her engines facing the direction she was heading. Her forward torpedo mount adjusted slightly before opening its launch port.

"We've got a clear shot, ma'm!"

"Fire!" And as the shrapnel torpedo went on its way, she rapped out her next instructions. "Order the S-Wing to commence its bombing run right behind the torpedo. Send in the E-Wing to rake the destroyer's portside flank after S-Wing's first run has commenced."

The torpedo went along its way with a constant burn, accelerating ever-faster towards the alert destroyer. The enemy ship automatically moved out of the way from the torpedo's trajectory, but that didn't matter for a shrapnel torpedo. Suspecting another destructive shipkiller missile like the Sunflare that vaporized the heavy transport, the enemy pulse destroyer started to bombard it with its heavy pulsers.

The damage to their muzzles along with the inefficiencies in the destroyer's sensor efficiency severely impaired its cannons' accuracy. Added with the fact that they were never designed to track small, nimble targets, the torpedo and the fighter wing following behind had easily slipped into closer range. As the torpedo was less than seven kilometers away from the destroyer, it finally initiated its detonation sequence.

A ton of incredibly dense metal propelled from the warhead, their patterns tightly focused towards the direction of the pulse destroyer. The rain of debris impacted the damaged hull of the ship like hail, clogging weapon barrels, piercing through sheets of patched over hull tears and sheering off a handful of sensor components.

The damage was mildly irritating, but nothing critical. The destroyer was more worried about the fighters that followed after the torpedo. The S-Wing unleashed their last remaining bombs on the heavy pulse mounts and raked their fire over other weak points. The E-Wing comprising of three of the _Eviscerator_'s combat craft fell upon the wing-less side of the destroyer, unleashing energy and death into the vulnerable breach. Explosions rippled the ship as the destroyer desperately tried to track the annoying fighters with its point defense guns.

"You'll never catch us!" Gimbal taunted, right when a small stream of pulses sheared off a piece of his wing. "Fuck!"

Claris' voice sounded over the commandnet then. "Alright flyboys, that's enough distraction. Pull back immediately. Any craft with critical damage should dock with our hangar bay. We don't have room for more, so you'll have to wait your turn."

As the strike craft headed back to the safety of the _Eviscerator_, a hidden operation was about to commence.

One of the shrapnel embedded against the hull of the enemy destroyer began to vibrate as the magic cast upon the object started to take effect.

A single armored figure portkeyed out into space just beside the enchanted object. Harry's magnetized boots quickly latched on to the surface of the hull, preventing him from drifting out into space. After regaining his bearing, he slowly began to magnet-walk towards the nearest tear in the hull. It was only a few meters away, but it took ten times longer for Harry to reach it due to his unfamiliarity with the walking technique. After inspecting there was enough empty space inside, the wizard threw a small plain metal ball inside. The harmless object stuck in the middle of the corridor.

His hand reached up to engage the comm. "The secondary portkey is in position."

"Roger that, sir."

A boarding capsule suddenly appeared in the empty corridor. Its nose quickly parted open, letting the troop of elite pirate boarders march out onto the ship. There was no local gravity in this unpowered section, but the pirates quickly adjusted to the sticky motions required to walk with the magnetized boots. Soon, all seven of them were out and ready to kill with their Class III beam lasers. This was the first time that the First Squad was sent to a hostile ship. They had spent months training with their weapons to an almost ridiculous proficiency. The love they held for the artificed weapons border-lined on religious fervor. They even copied the runes Harry painted all over the ship onto their armor.

Well, if they went that far already, all that Harry was activate the protective enchantments, making them as tough as hull plating.

These highly trained, highly experienced and well-equipped buccaneers were ready for slaughter. Cleveland made a quick hand signal towards a bulkhead, directing three of his men to point their rifles at the bare surface.

They pressed the trigger, letting out a powerful stream of green heat. The bulkhead couldn't withstand the assault, and quickly melted away from the energy. Air sucked out of the breach as the compartment beyond exposed itself into space. An enemy damage control team working on repairing some sort of system jumped away from the deadly beams. They gaped in astonishment before dropping their tools to grab their sidearms.

Their puny pulse pistols might as well be peashooters as far as Cleveland was concerned. He jumped through the breach and ran sideways to clear the way. His quick motions also made it harder for the enemy crew to keep track of him. His beam rifle lanced out, scorching the vacuum suit of one of his opponents and letting the cold of vacuum do the rest. He whipped his rifle towards another direction, directing his deadly beam to slice apart both men and equipment. The squad had cleared out the entire compartment before Harry stepped inside.

Holding his revolver in one hand and his wand in the other, Harry grinned at the carnage around him. Creating the portkeys was a bitch on his magical drain, but he couldn't figure out anything better. The plan was solid enough to work, though the cost to his magic was substantial. Already he could feel the pain affecting the nerves of his arms, but he ignored the sensation for now. He could deal with the after-effects later on.

"Alright men, let's move up to the bridge. Shoot to kill."

Harry shot a glob of plasma at a hatch, melting it through. He was the first one to step out of the breach-

-And straight on top of an anti-personnel mine set just half minute earlier outside of the entryway.

The violent electrical discharge knocked Harry back into the cleared compartment. His modern armor and his myriad of runes offered no protection against one of the primal forces of nature. The nEMP waves rolled over his magical enchantments and washed most of them away. More energies struck the wizard's body itself, electrocuting the boy's defenseless brains. He fell unconscious just as his armored form slammed harshly against the opposite bulkhead.

"Captain down!"

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	20. I: Pirate's Honor - Repost

May 1, 2011  
Repost: November 12, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Pirate's Honor_

* * *

Star sat down in front of the high-security communication booth and typed in her security codes. The sophisticated machine worked to establish a light-speed connection a few light minutes away from her location. The audiovisual connection soon established itself, connecting two individuals from opposite sides of Jupiter's orbit. The blond woman bowed in front of the figure on the screen.

"My liege."

"Star." The regally-bearing man nodded. Their family resemblance was remarkable, down to the same shade of blond and the cultured British-esque accent. "We have received your package safely. Good work in obtaining this blue dust sample. It may prove key in our future endeavors."

A faint burst of pride swelled in Star. "Thank you, sir."

"The discovery of this piece will accelerate our time table greatly. Plans are moving into motion. Your proximity to our person of interest is critical. Your failure in infiltrating his circle with one of our spies is regrettable in this regard. You should have constructed a profile on this Captain Harry before showering him with gifts. Not every starship captain is enamored with the latest technology."

The woman looked suitably admonished.

"What is done is done." The man sighed. He pressed a few buttons on his interface. "I have just approved your request for a transfer of funds. It is absolutely critical that you establish friendly relations with him before our rivals overtake us. Word has come to me that Governor Dolohov has been less than honest in his business dealings. He sold a half milligrams of dust to at least four other groups a week after your departure from Vlessing Base."

"That cretin!"

The man smiled ruefully at her outburst. "He will be dealt with at the appropriate time, Star. Concern yourself with your current mission instead, and keep your eyes out for any rivals. I hope the funds we've sent in your way will be enough for the task ahead."

"It will be, sir. I promise."

"See to it that you do. We cannot send more credits in your way. Someone will be bound to notice the credit flow. You're on your own there, Star. Good luck with your mission. Galaxy, out."

As the comm station blinked out, the woman sat up on her chair and stretched her back. She moved to the expansive viewscape on the opposite side of the apartment, joining the only other occupant in staring out in the huge environmental dome that made out Trindebal's city-sized interior. The view offered a convincing illusion of a terrestrial urban landscape. The tall buildings, convincing holograms and zipping hovercars made it as if they were on Terra itself.

Earth was a forbidden fruit. No trade or any other exchange flowed between the home planet and its former colonies. The corporate hegemony that ruled humanity's birthplace had adopted an extreme isolationist policy ever since they were beaten back from their final colonies. The Terrans pretty much despised the colonials and the colonials loathed their former oppressors in turn. The only reason why both sides hadn't annihilated each other yet was because both sides didn't have enough forces to attack and defend simultaneously. This wouldn't last, of course. Either Earth finally lashed out, or the disparate colonies of the solar system banded together and annihilate the Terrans. There was too much animosity between the two to ever consider peaceful coexistence.

Star addressed her subordinate. "Ether, please arrange a diner appointment with Captain Grey."

"He's Admiral Black's heir! Are you certain you want to meet him?"

"Do not question me." The female glowered at Ether. "You've made a fool out of me already."

"My apologies, Star."

"Now leave me."

The servant left the apartment, leaving Star to contemplate her plans alone. With Galaxy's generous advance, she possessed the means to exchange favors with certain well-placed individuals. If there is one commodity that everyone wanted more of, it was universal credits. With the advent of increasingly sophisticated counterfeit currency, trade eventually completely collapsed somewhere in the twenty-seventh century. Trusted parties didn't trust each other anymore. Even the most solid currencies, the Earth Dollar, was suspect. Bartering made its comeback into the age of space as the only reliable method of trade. Still, for most individuals, exchanging containers of raw materials was not a very convenient way to purchase a nutrient bar.

The dark age eventually ended with the rise of the universal credit. Backed by a neutral consortium that was now known as the Commerce Society, its unique credit cubes were manufactured from the same principles of Ship Crystals and command rings. No other organization could replicate the exact same crystals. This virtually wiped out the monetary counterfeit industry. With a finite, limited supply of credits, the solar economy went back into balance, and growth could resume. Even criminals used the currency, as the Commerce Society didn't track where its credits ended up. Their only concern was to maintain the validity of its product.

Star had to prepare the ground for Captain Harry's eventual return. It was no secret that the boy sought a way to reach Earth. Why any non-Terran would want to travel to that xenophobic death trap was a mystery to her. Unfortunately, she needed Harry alive for Galaxy's schemes to come into fruition. For him to plunge through a Gravitic Catapult and end up right in front of Earth's impressive orbital defenses was a regrettable turn of events that would likely result in nothing less than his complete destruction. No outsiders were allowed to stay alive within Terra's borders.

There had to be a way to prevent Harry from going on this deluded journey. Dining with Captain Grey was a start. As the administrator in charge of operating and defending the Callistoan Maffia's Gravitic Catapult, the heir of Admiral Black was the key in obstructing Harry's passage. With the right favors, he might grant her a means to impose a block. With no other Gravitic Catapult in Jupiter's orbit that would allow any pirates, Harry would be effectively stuck in this sector.

Sighing softly, Star left the viewscape and strolled over to her closet. She had to wear the right dress for this date. Grey had a reputation for being a womanizer like his father. The heir to Admiral Black's domain would be a formidable man to please.

* * *

Harry woke up.

He came around from the concussive blast of whatever trap he had fallen into due to his impatience. He made a stupid mistake, one he vowed never to repeat. The wizard immediately scanned his environments. His surroundings seemed to look like a medical bay, one which was definitely roomier than the one of the _Eviscerator_. After discerning that there were no threats in his vicinity, he turned his inspection to himself. No limbs were missing, and his weapons were neatly strapped on his belt. His boarding armor still seemed to be intact, although most of the wards and enchantments he had placed on them were stripped of their potency.

"Fucking EMP."

The wizard took up his wand and cast a handful of essential charms back on his armor. The protection he recast on himself paled in comparison to what he had painstakingly stacked on his armor before, but it would do in a pinch. With this done, he raised himself from the medbed and carefully lifted himself to his feet. Performing these delicate movements was tricky in his armor. The EMP had left its mark on his armor's electronic systems. Taking a few steps forwards, he practically toppled when he found out his left leg didn't budge.

"Damnit. What's the use of paying a shitload of credits if it doesn't even hold up to its promise?"

Chief Cleveland stepped calmly into his view. "Sir. Do you need any help in re-configuring your boarding armor?"

"We're still in hostile territory." Harry noted as he swept his gaze over to the burned and sliced corpses of previously injured crewmen.

"We have a few minutes of grace. The enemy crew pulled back as our beam lasers tore through every barricade they put in our way."

"Alright then, do your thing. And gimme a sitrep."

The Chief calmly stepped forward and began to fidget with the paneling on the armor. He tweaked every single limb and armor section as he brought Harry up to date with their current situation.

"In short, this ship, the _Hellbringer_, is a mess. The bridge collapsed long before we arrived due to a lucky hit from the _Lancelot_. Command has devolved to engineering, which is quite heavily fortified at the moment. We can't move straight to the engineering room without clearing the compartments in between. We'd risk an ambush from behind if we leave the people manning the gun turrets and other departments behind. We hit their armory pretty early so they don't have access to the killer stuff, but they are still a force to be reckoned with. I lost a few friends who rushed in like that. Then again, I also lost a few friends who took too long to secure the reactor."

"The reactor." Harry gasped, remembering the violent manner in which the _Arbalest_ and the _Swift Corsair_ blew up. "Is the enemy getting any closer to blowing up the reactor core?"

"That's the problem, sir." With a wave of his hand, Cleveland's armor projected a small schematic of the ship. "The engineers managed to place heavy-duty explosives along the cooling chambers of the reactor. If they all blow, the core will overheat and we'll all blow up in less than a minute. They're using it as a threat to force our surrender."

They had the audacity to demand his surrender? Anger broiled in Harry's stomach. "What can we do?"

"We're cornered. If we leave the ship and float out into space, they'll blow the ship before we can leave the blast radius. If we try to attack any of their fortified positions, they'll blow the ship as well. On top of that, the detonators are also configured to act as dead man's switches. If any of them die, the cooling chambers blow up by themselves. In any case, their negotiator gave us ten minutes to surrender. If we stall…"

The boy could guess what would happen. "They'll blow us up. How much time do we have left?"

"Four minutes."

"Shit!" Harry retracted his limbs from Cleveland's ministrations. "Why didn't you tell me that from the start!"

"You're no use if your armor is working against you. I've done what I could for now, but I'm no maintenance tech. You can walk, but you can't run or make any other rapid movements."

That wasn't any difference from what the boy was used to, so it wasn't that big of a deal. He was more concerned with threat of getting blown up. Harry quickly fumbled in one of his belt packs and retrieved an enchanted credit cube.

The EMP had dispelled portkey enchantment Harry had cast on the object. "It's useless. We can't teleport back. We've got to do something else. Where's the rest of the First Squad?"

"They're holding guard outside."

The two pirates joined the boarders outside the medical bay. All six of them had spread out into the corridor and hid behind makeshift cover made out of cabinets and tables. The veterans grunted at Harry and Cleveland's arrival. The captain didn't waste much time. The clock was ticking.

"Okay guys, we don't have much time so we'll keep this short. I'm guessing that a ship like this won't carry a big fusion reactor under its hood without having some sort of safety precautions. Is there any way to shut the reactor down without getting ourselves blown up?"

One of the other men started to speak. "Well, sir, without the command ring there's not a lot of options. Though, you could try activating the ejection system." At Harry's puzzled look the pirate quickly elaborated. "When the cooling systems fail or some shit like that, the engineers can eject the reactor through some trap door and expel the thing into space with a gravitic push. As long as it isn't too hot when its expelled, the reactor won't take out the ship when it blows."

After a few more exchanges of opinions, a plan materialized. Well, to call it a plan would be a stretch. There was just too little time to come up with anything elegant. Harry knew no magic that could help him besides apparating back to the Evie. But without a solid fix of the Eviscerator's position in space, there was a large risk that he would end up in open space among the radioactive debris of the battle. Even his boarding armor wasn't rated to withstand that much toxic waste.

"Alright, that's enough planning. Let's charge and figure out the rest when we're there."

"You heard the cap'n, boys." The Chief of Security said as he motioned his men to abandon their defensive positions. "Lets go!"

The First Squad practically slammed through the compartments in their way. They didn't bother to go down the corridors, not after what Harry went through with the anti-personnel mine. The mercenaries were too crafty with their traps. Still, even they couldn't predict how Class III beam laser rifles could be used to circumvent their tricks. Four beams carved a square into a bulkhead to weaken the metal structure while another boarder slammed the molten part with his body into the next compartment. They swept out any enemies that were present before repeating the same routine. It took more time to cross the ship this way, but they were unhindered by any unpleasant surprises that might have been prepared for them. On and on the First Squad traversed throughout the ship by making their own makeshift entrances. They finally slammed into the reactor room with less than a minute left.

"Shoot to kill!" Harry roared as he shot his reductors haphazardly at the stunned engineers, uncaring about the dead man's switch.

An enemy crewman's death triggered the explosives wired to the cooling channels. Industrial coolant poured out of the breaches and engulfed more than a few unfortunate crewmen whose suits weren't rated to withstand the deadly mix of chemicals. Taking advantage of the chaos, the First Squad mopped up the rest of the engineers, but that didn't end the threat.

"The reactor's heating up!" Cleveland yelled over the straining pitch of the flickering reactor. The massive green chamber hummed in ominous danger. The Chief quickly sped towards the main reactor console and started to work on its settings. He called another boarder over who was more knowledgeable with engineering to help him out. "Damnit! They sabotaged the console! I need more time to eject the reactor!"

"How much?!" Harry asked over the noise. The whine was getting to him even through his muted helmet.

"Two minutes, but the reactor is going to blow in thirty seconds if we can't get it to cool down!"

There was no choice. No time. No alternatives. He had to resort to magic. Harry dropped his revolver and held out his wand with both his hands.

"_**Aguamenti**__!"_

A spray of water and ice streamed out of his Elder Wand and splashed against the surface of the reactor casing. While the solution was not as effective as cooling the inner casing directly, the stream of ice-cold liquid was sufficient in siphoning off the brunt of the heat. Harry strained hard against the encroaching pressure of his growing curses. The amount of magic he expended conjuring the spray of water was staggering, and he felt his very nerves beginning to flare over his wand arm. Something sinister crept over his skin. The sensation started to strangle his pain receptors, making him feel like he was plunging his arm into an oven. He bit back his lip, trying to hold on against the pressure.

"H…How much longer… kuhh…"

"Only half a minute more!"

Harry couldn't last that long. With a violent blast, the stream of water dried up into a ray of raw magic, before sputtering into nothing. The curses preying upon Harry had gorged themselves on Harry's magical expenditure and were close to overtaking his magic. If he cast one more spell at that awesome power, the drain would overtake his magical regeneration and slowly suck out all the magic from his being. He'd turn into a walking husk, never able to die, but never able to think or feel any emotion.

The wizard dropped to his knees in exhaustion. A pair of buccaneers quickly went to his side and used their limited first aid knowledge to check up on his vitals. One of them even injected some kind of stimulant in his bloodstream, for all the good that would do. Cleveland worked anxiously at the console, having almost cracked the encryption. His hacking module finally cracked the protection, allowing the chief to pull the switch.

"It's done! Everyone, hit the deck!"

The 'trapdoor' sucked the reactor out through the bottom of the ship with a loud whoosh that took along more than its fair share of air. Everyone was swept off his feet from the brutal suction. As soon as the trapdoor opened though, it closed, leaving a disoriented team of boarders.

With the reactor gone, the ship turned to its emergency generators for power. Most nonessential systems shut down entirely, while other vital systems were set to a minimal consumption mode. Most lights turned off entirely, allowing the naturally luminescent surfaces embedded into the bulkhead to light the way using their stored potential. The only systems that increased its energy consumption were the engines. Pre-programmed subroutines in case of a reactor ejection directed the ship to go into overburn, pumping an excess amount of fuel into its burning chambers. The excessive amount of heat that pushed through the boosters began to melt the thruster nozzles that directed the ship, but that was of little consequence.

The separated reactor casing started to glow in red-hot fury.

The ship had to haul itself outside of the critical reactor's blast radius. Without any coolant or other sources to redirect its heat, the increasingly hot reactor core began to collapse into an unstable chain reaction as the heat excited the fusion fuel into a rabid frenzy.

The energy generator finally blew.

The reactor room along with the rest of the ship shook with horrendous force as the nuclear explosion buffeted the _Hellbringer_'s armor. The impact waves shoved everyone off their feet. Cleveland jumped on Harry and pushed him against the deck, not that it helped that much. Before the exhausted wizard fell unconscious, he opened an encrypted command channel to the _Eviscerator_.

"Claris.. use your best judgment.."

* * *

The highly distorted voice was barely audible over the command channel.

"Clari***…. Use y** best ***gment.."

The executive officer of the _Eviscerator_ bared her teeth. Claris grinned excitedly at Harry's latest order. Finally she could do what she was itching to do since the start of the battle. The phrase was a code for her to commence one of the many contingency plans they had devised in advance.

When Harry said that she should use her judgment, it meant that she should look to maximize their plunder, no matter the cost. That meant that she was allowed to eliminate the other pirate ships if the risks were acceptable. Claris called up a status report of the pirate squadron.

The _Swift Corsair _and the _Arbalest_ were both destroyed with all hands lost.

The _Lancelot _was crippled, but recovering. Even should it come back online, the ship was no threat to the _Eviscerator_. Harry had something special in mind for that destroyer. What that actually entailed was anyone's guess, but the wizard had repeatedly hammered in that she shouldn't worry.

That left the only remaining variable in the form of the _Light of Pericles_. Her, along with the missile destroyer the grappling frigate had trapped within her jaws. According to the latest updates, the boarding battle was still well underway, with no signs of ending soon. That left both ships vulnerable to an external attack.

The lieutenant made her decision.

"All crew, initiate Judgment Day protocols. All pirate elements besides our own are now considered enemies. Update our IFFs. Order our fighters to target the S-Wing and await my command to fire."

"Lieutenant, you can't do this!" Professor Zhang burst out from his station. Practically everyone else had no qualms betraying their former comrades, but Zhang wasn't too used to the pirate life yet. "Some of them have died taking their enemies with them. We'll be tarnishing our dignity if we stoop to this level."

"Whoever said that pirates had dignity, professor?" The woman grinned savagely. "Besides, Captain Harry gave the orders, not me. You would do well to obey him."

But Zhang was undeterred. "Some of our boarding personnel are still on the missile destroyer along with the men from the _Light of Pericles_. The instant our betrayal becomes known, they'll be dead meat."

Those stuck on the missile destroyer were Selner's men. All of them were pretty much worthless. Claris cared nothing for their loss, and she thought that Harry wouldn't shed a tear either. Still, abandoning her shipmates wouldn't do well for morale. She had to make an attempt, however half-hearted it may be.

"If you care so much then, order the boarding team to retreat back to their boarding capsule." She suggested to Zhang in a callous tone. "They're currently trying to assault the bridge, aren't they? That means they're not tied up with the crew of the Perry. They should easily be able to sneak off the ship."

She allowed the professor to pass on the order through a code. It wouldn't fool the Perry's communications tech for long, but the few seconds they would buy would be enough. Claris turned her focus to Stacy.

"Are our turrets trained on the _Swift Corsair_'s remaining fighters?"

"The turret crews have them all in their sights, ma'm. Just say the word and we'll blast them into pieces." The girl answered enthusiastically. She was already eager to receive her share of the humongous bounty they would receive if all the rival captains were eliminated. A tiny slice off hundreds of millions of credits was still almost a million.

"What about the fighters repairing in our hangar bay?"

"Our security forces are in place. They can subdue the pilots at any moment."

"Alright then. Have replacement pilots ready to fly out the birds. Pick out anyone with flying experience, and if there are none available, grab someone who has at least some simulation experience."

As every detail fell into place, Claris issued the order that they had all been waiting for. "Commence Judgment Day!"

In the hangar of the _Eviscerator_, the oblivious pilots from the _Swift Corsair_ were directing the repair and refueling effort. Suddenly, all the hangar crew jumped behind cover as the Evie's security personnel stormed in the hangar bay. The armored troops caught the pilots completely by surprise. The guests didn't stand a chance against the onslaught of pulses. Soon the fighters were secured for the Evie's own use.

Onboard the enemy missile destroyer, the rookie boarding team fell onto Captain Prestor. They ripped his pulse rifle away and stabbed the vulnerable joints of his armor with their bayonets until he was a bleeding pincushion. The rookies quickly retreated to their boarding capsule before the crew from the _Light of Pericles_ could catch on to their treachery.

As for the remainder of the S-Wing, they fared little better than their comrades. Their patrol encountered a sudden burst of pulses that were spat out from the Evie's four dual-barreled point defense turrets. Their close proximity to the ship proved to be their downfall, as it turned out to be childishly easy for the turret operators to track their movements.

The two waiting fighters of the E-Wing didn't stick around to help as the Evie had more than enough firepower for the task. Instead, Deadman along with Housewife accelerated full burn towards the _Pericles_ and her prey. The grappling frigate had gone to full alert after the news of the Evie's betrayal fully weighed in. The Perry began to retract its boarding nozzle and prepared to retract her grappling arms. However, the E-wing had been anticipating this retreat, and was upon the Perry in a moment.

The grappling frigate boasted a formidable set of point defense turrets. However, more than a few of them were askew or disabled after the Perry sustained a rocket barrage from her prey. The E-Wing approached from below, exploiting a gap in their turret cover. As the frigate still held on to the destroyer, there was no way for her to rotate or spins in order to angle away her weak spots. The _Light of Pericles_ was completely at the mercy of the incoming fighters.

"Bombs away!" Housewife called as she released the kinetic bomb under the hull of her bomber.

Both strike craft stuck around for a bit longer to strafe a few vulnerable systems, but eventually turned around to build up some distance in case a reactor exploded. Though the kinetic bomb was aimed at the _Perry_'s bridge, anything could happen when it hit. As the bomb tore through the Perry's armor and into the heart of her core, the bomb exploded, leaving fire and devastation in its wake. Explosions continued to ripple along her flank as critical fuel lines and power conduits were struck. Most likely, the bridge and other essential compartments went with the ship.

Somehow, the rookie boarding team that had just killed Captain Prestor managed to return to their boarding capsule and boost away from the missile destroyer. Their evacuation cleared the way for the big guns. The _Eviscerator _approached into firing range and readied her main gun for firing. Shots of accurate EMP pulses pierced the defenseless frigate, disabling weapons and engines but avoiding any structural damage. The Evie then angled herself to strip the teeth of the missile destroyer as well. The two ships might still boast working reactors and angry crewmen, but without a way to fight or run away they could do nothing to stop the treacherous mobile carrier.

Claris exulted in her position of power. Seeing friends and enemies succumb to the Evie's strength was exhilarating. In one fell swoop they disabled pretty much all the combat-capable threats on the battlefield. There was no one else who could challenge the _Eviscerator_'s mastery over the spoils of this battle. If Harry was right about the _Lancelot_'s conquest as well, then there was nothing more to shoot.

"All crew, stand down from critical alert. The fight is over. We've won."

A short cheer went up among the bridge crew. They could hardly believe their luck. Without another ship to divide their prize, they would all be filthy rich. Though Harry might be a domineering freak, his luck was as impressive as his magic. Everyone cheered his name.

* * *

The hour-long battle between the pirates and the mercenaries had ended with only one remaining victor. Of all the ships engaged in the battle, only the _Eviscerator_ came out unscathed. The remaining mercenary pulse destroyer could do nothing without its reactor to power its weapons. Its crew had promptly boarded their escape pods and fled.

The other pair of ships locked into combat were also out of options. After the _Eviscerator_ peppered the _Light of Pericles_ and her the grappled missile destroyer with EMP bolts, the pirates and mercenaries previously locked in close quarters combat decided that there was no further point in continued struggle and had also fled with whatever escape pod that was still available.

There were many pods out in space, all boosting away towards the nearest pirate base or colony outpost. Claris could easily direct her fighters to shoot them all down, but that was simply a waste of time. They weren't worth the trouble, and as long as the pods didn't try anything funny she left them be. Instead, she split her fighters between guarding the two defenseless passenger liners and keeping an eye on the inert _Lancelot_.

They all had orders not to touch the strangely silent ship. Was the torpedo that impacted its center that effective? Surely not. As long as the reactor wasn't hit, the broadside destroyer still had a chance to pulverize the _Eviscerator_. To give up after just that single attack was perplexing. Perhaps the pulse bombardment on one of her sides proved to be more devastating for the tough warship. But Captain Prestor's men were all seasoned spacers and shouldn't have given up so soon. Whatever Captain Harry had done to neutralize the crew, it must have been powerful.

With the battle over and done, the hard part was about to begin. There were four abandoned warships floating around along with the two disabled passenger liners. The _Eviscerator_ didn't have anywhere near enough thruster capacity to tow all these ships back to Trindebal Station. In order to recover all of them, at least two of the abandoned ships had to be brought back to working condition in order to tow the rest.

She already sent a prize crew to bring the missile destroyer back online. The ship was mostly intact after all, and it would be a simple case of manning the bridge and the engine room to get it back to working condition. That the _Light of Pericles_ that was still embedded on its side was a bonus. They wouldn't have to tow the grappling frigate separately, although the uneven distribution of mass would be a challenge to compensate correctly.

That left the other two heavy combatants. The pulse destroyer that Captain Harry and the First Squad had boarded would never operate properly without a reactor. That meant that the _Lancelot_ had to be brought back online to extend a towing line to the empty husk. Claris already had a prize crew detail ready to be sent out to the ship when Harry stopped her plan in its tracks.

"No. Don't send anyone to the _Lancelot_."

"My pardon, sir?"

The boy shook his head while maintaining an enigmatic smile over the comm screen. "Just transmit your orders to the ship. The _Lancelot_ will approach the _Hellbringer_ and extend a towing line to the empty destroyer themselves."

"How..?"

"You'll find out why later on. Suffice to say, whoever's left on the _Lancelot_ is completely loyal to my cause."

And indeed, after another hour of inactivity, the crippled _Lancelot_ seemed to revive. Her engines began to flare as the damaged warship slowly inched towards the cleared out pulse destroyer. In the meantime, the _Eviscerator _had approached the enemy ship first in order to transfer some men and lock down the ship for towing. Claris was anxious to pick up her captain and his escort. A team of missile techs was also waiting besides her outside the hatch, ready to enter the destroyer to filch a couple of torpedoes. The Evie's torpedo rack was uncomfortably empty.

The mobile carrier eased alongside the reactor-less warship. A boarding nozzle extended from the _Eviscerator_'s airlock and connected with the corresponding one of the _Hellbringer_. After testing the robustness of the connection, the hatches between the two ships opened and the two teams of pirates began to cross over the temporary connection.

Claris waited in front of the airlock for Harry's return. That was when she noticed the hoverstretcher. "Captain Harry! Are you injured?"

The boy lay weakly on the bed. His body was stripped from his cumbersome boarding armor, leaving him covered only by the vacsuit he wore underneath the armor for cushioning. Most worryingly however was the sight of the biofoam cast wrapped around the wizard's right arm.

Her captain appeared rather amused at her concern. "I'm not in any risk…" His face fell somewhat then. "Though my magical reserves are awfully stressed. I won't be performing anything spectacular anytime soon. I'll probably know a bit more when Dr. Selner has checked me over. Until then, you're in charge. Make sure the passenger liners aren't doing anything stupid."

The acting captain nodded. "Their engines are disabled and their escape pods are shot. There's still a risk that they'll overload their reactors though. We're still trying to negotiate their surrender. They don't trust us, and for good reason."

It was as Harry had expected. "There's no chance that the diplomatic mission can continue on their way, so we have our client's payout in the bag already. The extra few million we might be able to earn from selling the passengers is welcome, but don't risk it. What we get from selling the prizes is probably worth a lot more."

Not everyone saw the situation in that light. If every slave could be sold for an average price of a thousand credits each, then that meant they stood to lose up to thirty million credits if all of them were lost. That wasn't chump change. And that wasn't even counting the extra few millions they could earn from ransoming a score high-profile captives. Despite the spectacular bounty that awaited them back on Trindebal Station, the crew were still half-tempted to take up arms if she wasn't able to get the passenger liners to surrender.

With only two-dozen boarders left at her disposal, Claris couldn't just put board the liners and subdue the passengers. She had to talk them down into giving up their reactor. Nine times out of ten, they usually did. The passengers and the civilian spacers crewing them usually possessed nowhere near the nerve required to blow themselves up. Slavery was a harsh existence, but the dim hope of rescue always remained. To kill yourself immediately was a step too far for most hostages.

A comm channel sprung up from her side. It was Zhang, who had stayed behind to take charge of the Evie. "Ma'm, you should hear this. I've got the diplomatic delegation on the line. They're proposing to buy us off."

Double-crossing a client was bad business, even for pirates. If they accepted this offer, then they would be barred from most jobs available to pirates. She could hide the betrayal to her fellow comrades, but getting into bed with the civilians was bound to get out. That was not an attractive option.

"Tell them we're not interested."

"Claris, you should hear this." Zhang pressed on, trying hard to avoid the civilians on the ship from falling into a terrible fate. "In exchange for leaving them alive and escorting them to Europa, they're offering fifty percent more of what our client would pay out if we killed them. We'll receive double if we escort them back to Io. They're also throwing in the cost of repair along with limited access to their military stockpiles. In order to smooth out the legalities, the diplomats have the authority to wipe out our criminal record and extend a letter of marque. They're offering us to become privateers under their flag."

As if Claris cared.

"I don't give a rat's ass whether we're legal or not. A privateer is subject to hundreds of restrictions. I don't think Harry will like that very much."

The professor smirked, and finally revealed his ace. "There's a lot riding on this non-aggression pact the poeple from Io are trying to establish. I managed to wring out an additional promise from the delegation. We can get a free ride through any Gravitic Catapult that the Ioans or Europans have at hand. We don't even need to pay the three-hundred million credit fee. I passed the news to Dr. Selner and she has already informed Captain Harry."

That sunova bitch! How dare he pull off this stunt and go above her head! They were supposed to be pirates. Claris had pissed on the law ever since she mugged her first victim. She was not about to be pulled back into the world of prim and proper. Besides, there were no guarantees that the Ioans would even keep their word. Once at Europa, the _Eviscerator _would be at the mercy of the lunar colony's defenses. Only a fool would even consider this offer.

Another comm channel opened between their private conversation. It was Harry, whose arm was being checked over by Dr. Selner. His face appeared passive as he coolly regarded his two subordinates.

"Lieutenant. Professor." The captain greeted as Selner worked on the cast wrapped around his arm. "I've gone over their offer and.. I'm intrigued."

Claris looked dumbstruck at the news. She was even more perplexed when Selner leaned her head towards Harry's ear. The concubine whispered something inaudible over the comm channel. Whatever Selner had said, it made Harry smile.

The boy spoke again. "I'd like to meet these diplomats in person to explore this option. They might not be able to provide enough guarantees to back their offer, but I'm willing to give them a chance. After all, what harm could they do?"

'_What harm indeed'_, Claris thought as she curled her fingers into fists. She had been too complacent after Selner received a reprimand from Harry. Her idiotic quest to turn Harry away from a life of depravity and death would only end up in ruin.

There was no turning back from the life of a pirate.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	21. I: Shotgun Diplomacy - Repost

May 6, 2011  
Repost: November 13, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Shotgun Diplomacy_

* * *

The _Eviscerator _slowly inched towards one of the free-floating passenger liners. The huge commercial craft were designed to carry fifteen thousand passengers, and both civilian ships utterly dwarfed the small mobile carrier.

But size didn't matter at this point. Military hull plating on a ship that large costed an exorbitant amount of credits that could have been used to build proper warships instead. Civilian ships were designed to be cheap and economic, not sturdy and defensible. Escorts of dedicated warships provided all of the necessary protection. Giving civilians the means to arm themselves was an invitation to anarchy.

Whoever hired the mercenary escort to protect these liners had provided enough firepower to fend off the occasional corvette or frigate. But even he could not predict that the details would leak out to Captain Zymen's clients. A five-ship pirate squadron was so rare that beefing up the convoy to withstand such a force would have been counter-productive. Too bad the planner didn't expect his plans were leaked.

Harry wondered why these diplomats had to sneak their way to Europa instead of travelling there openly with a full fleet. From what he had understood so far of Jovian politics, there were four superpowers here who were all vying for territory and wealth. Io, Callisto, Europa and Ganymede were Jupiter's largest moons, and had been settled centuries ago by pioneers before humanity started to explore the rest of Jupiter's vast orbital debris. Most of the other 'moons' were really nothing more than oversized asteroids, and very few were able to support a self-sustaining population base. That made it very difficult for outside powers to establish a formidable presence in this resource-rich sector. The Jovian superpowers guarded their combined independence jealously.

This was also why they didn't try too hard in wiping out the pirates that preyed upon the Jupiter Outback. The lunar governments didn't have the funds and manpower to patrol Jupiter's entire orbital sector and all its eccentrically orbiting asteroids. Greedy and violent pirates kept the unclaimed regions relatively barren of any corporate activity. The cost of bringing in and maintaining proper defenses just wasn't cost-effective in light of the predations.

By tacitly letting the pirates fester in the regions the Jovian powers were unable to patrol, they denied foreign powers a foothold in their neighborhood. Overall, it was a win-win situation, if you didn't account for the occasional pirate incursions into Jovian territory. Such as now.

"Ahh.. Go deeper." Harry let out contently as he relaxed on his comfy med bed.

Dr. Selner had just finished dressing his wand arm and molding a more sophisticated cast for the unresponsive limb. Now, she was dressing up his 'other' arm. Harry's free hand brushed Selner's smooth red hair, gently guiding her ministrations on his sweaty and pulsing organ. He didn't really know why she jumped on him with her fantastic mouth, but he sure wasn't complaining.

Her tongue flicked a wonderfully sensitive part, eliciting an excited gasp from the boy. Selner tried hard to look eager and pleased. While she wanted to do nothing more than bite Harry off, she had to stay on Harry's good side. As long as he vented his desires on her and her alone, he would be too exhausted to take another woman. It also distracted him from any counter-schemes that Claris might cook up.

"Am I pleasing you, my love?" She innocently asked as she let her warm breath brush over his skin. The shiny surface twitched in excitement.

"Keep going!"

"As you wish, my love."

Making note of Harry's growing desire, she stepped up on her oral performance. Weeks of whoring herself out had given her a detailed picture of Harry's preferences. He liked variety. Sometimes he wanted to draw out the experience and let himself be pampered. He derived his pleasure as much from her touch as from her loving words. Another activity he liked to indulge in was roleplay. The classic scenario was of course the nurse and the patient. Other times he wanted her to be his childhood friend or rival at school. The freakiest roleplay was when he wanted her to mother him like a son, saying how proud she was of him and make her sing lullabies to him as he fell asleep. That was by far the most disturbing play. Luckily he only did it once.

However, at other times, his darker side would emerge, forcing Selner to subject herself to considerable abuse. He would laugh cruelly as he thrust his hips, gagging her and even forcing her to throw up her lunch. Then he would throw her head to the floor and press his boot on her, pressuring her to lick up the remains. She had learned not to repress her emotions when he behaved like that, as he seemed only to get off when she was broken and crying. Holding off only meant that Harry would step up in his brutal treatment.

Just remembering Harry at his worst steeled Selner's resolve. If she satisfied him now, he would hopefully be too tired to jump one of the innocent civilians he was about to meet when he went to greet the delegation. She sucked him off hard but slow, letting the horny wizard enjoy her suction as well as her circling tongue. She spread his moisture over the wrinkly surface, coordinating the movements with her mouth.

"Ahhh fuck.. you're amazing.. I wouldn't know what to do without you.."

She smiled. "You flatter me." And she pulled out her mouth only for her to kiss him. "But I love that part of you."

His hand left the top of her head. Instead, he reached out his thumb, which she sensuously took in her mouth. The doctor looked up at Harry as she teased and tugged at the digit. The boy stared back at her kneeling form with intense lust. He poked his other fingers in her mouth, stretching them against her inner cheek, stroking the surface of her tongue, and even running them over her milky white teeth.

"You're mine." He growled possessively.

"I'm yours."

Her small supple hands moved up and down in long, firm strokes. The wet slopping sounds of her spit-soaked hands slapping loudly against his waist and it excited him even further. His fingers thrust in and out of her mouth like a shaft. She compliantly treated his hand as another object to be worshipped, licking and sucking it accordingly. He eventually tired and withdrew his saliva-stained hand, brushing it instead against her head and pushing her lips to his aching need. She complied, licking and kissing him while her hands became busy.

He was insatiable. Harry had forced her to provide him with fertility supplements, and despite her reservations, she knew it wasn't wise to disobey him. It was a good thing she installed a few more upgrades to the medical bay after the _Eviscerator_'s last refit. The bodysculpting and muscle toner instruments had subtly eliminated her imperfections over the course of this journey. Thus, even though Harry's libido was double to any other healthy teenager, she was confident she would still be beautiful enough to satisfy his desires. If anyone else knew about the devices in her possession, the entire crew would be lining up outside the medbay. The doctor wasn't about to give that bitch Claris the opportunity to enhance her beauty. Harry was Selner's alone to please.

That, along with the boy's intense adoring stare made her climax. Harry had eyes for her and only her. He could have chosen many other women aboard the ship to take as his own. Claris was gorgeously thin and enviously tight. Felicity was perky little doll, and depending on the rumors, an absolute nymph. Dozens of girls on board the Evie were younger, fitter, and more nubile than herself. That Harry had stuck with her even after her blunder with recruiting the new crewmen meant that he desired her above any other slut.

The thrill of being desired made her an almost willing victim to his perversities. Selner knew that if she did not feel that she was wanted, then she couldn't maintain her deception. He even made her appreciate sex as a leisure activity. Part of her was disappointed that she became a little more alike to the boy, but another part of her relished Harry's conquest of her body. She loved it when he treated her as his possession.

"I'm going to explode soon, love." The powerful wizard grunted as he pushed her mouth deeper. "Gimme the doctor's special."

She sucked hard and fast, knowing he wanted to climax. One of her fingers crept up his skinny chest and tweaked at his nipple. Her other hand continued to work him over. When she felt that Harry was almost over the edge, she began to hum.

In the end, Harry's bliss had ended, and his excitement stopped drowning her. Harry finally left his hand from her hair, allowing her to pull away. The boy lidded his eyes, only half-aware of her presence as the aftermath of his rush still made waves inside his body. Ever so slowly, Selner pulled out a test tube from her lab coat pocket and raised the lip to her moist lips. Parting slowly, she let her gift dribble into the empty synthetic tube. When the container was completely filled, she swallowed the remainder before pulling out a stopper to seal the tube.

"Come on, love, shove it inside of you." The cheeky boy ordered as the haze of his climax slowly passed away. "I want to see you bend over with that sexy behind of yours."

Selner did as she was told. She removed her coat and dropped it to the floor. Clad in nothing but a skintight vacsuit, she teasingly stepped over to a nearby desk and sinuously bent over. Her hand pressed a button on her suit, parting the slit that kept her bottom covered. Looking back with a mischievous glance, she brought the test tube over her mouth and coated it sensually with her saliva. She then trailed the tip of the thin container over her luscious lips, down her contoured chin, against her copious chest, along her tight stomach, until she reached her lower regions.

Then, she eased the tube inside.

Commanding her suit to close and pad her lower regions in order to keep the test tube firmly inside, she awkwardly turned around, trying to stand up but finding it hard to do so. Harry waved his arm and a push out of nowhere forced her on all fours.

"Crawl to me, honey. The meeting isn't about to start in an hour and I'm not cleaned up yet. I could use a cleaning."

Shuddering slightly, Selner arced her back and pawed over to his sitting position like a cat. His manhood stretched right in front of her as she closed in. She had a long hour ahead. Even emptied out, he could still find a hundred ways to torture her mind and body. Harry would always find a way to make her suffer.

Her only consolation was that she was doing this for a good cause.

"Yes.. master."

* * *

After getting cleaned up and dressed for the upcoming meeting, Harry boarded the small cutter docked to the _Eviscerator_'s side. Selner had been an amazing companion these past few weeks for him. She would do anything and everything he wanted without complaint, and bent over backwards for him if he didn't request anything specifically. He truly loved her devotion to him and the comfort her warm embrace provided.

But this was not the time to let his now-satisfied libido to do the thinking for him. The small, cramped cutter glided slowly towards a larger shuttle sitting in the middle of empty space. Many large ships usually possessed enough space in their hold for a few short-range transport boats in order to transfer people and supplies between ships or space stations. Their design was simple and economic, lacking the volatile reactors that powered larger ships. They would be safe enough from any sabotage aboard a shuttle, although Harry's security team didn't share that optimism.

"We'll be going aboard first to sweep the interior, sir. Just stay right put until we give the all clear." Janis told him as she lowered her helmet over her fully armored form.

As the cutter mated its hatch with the one on the shuttle, the four boarders went through the airlock with pistols and scanning gear in their hands. While they could have carried their beam laser rifles with them, using them on such a tiny boat was overkill and likely counter-productive to boot. The green lances would tear the shuttle apart.

It took his security escort a full half hour to turn over every single dust mote inside the shuttle before they cleared it for Harry's entry. Rather annoyed that it took so long for them to satisfy their paranoia, Harry strode through the airlock with Claris at his side. He absently grasped her waist as they entered together, earning a small surprised gasp from her throat. The tired boy hadn't enjoyed Selner's company long enough to sate his urge completely. The excitement of battle and the frustration of having his most important arm immobilized took a toll on his mood.

When Claris reciprocated his move and pressed her soft palm against the small of his back to massage it, he almost pulled her close and kiss her attractive lips until he reminded himself to remain professional. It wouldn't do for him to wolf down every single female subordinate.

But by Merlin did her swirling hand feel good.

They entered a luxurious-looking suite. The shuttle was obviously used to ferry VIPs, and it showed in the opulence of its interior. Fur carpets, marble paneling, gold finishing, the works. One of the odder features of the shuttle was that its chairs were collapsible and movable, which the civilians had taken advantage of. If Harry didn't know any better, he would have figured he was walking into a conference room. Many of the chairs were stowed away to the walls. The handful of remaining ones was seated at a table in the middle, which actually consisted of stacked chairs configured specifically for this purpose. A few water pitchers and other snacks lay untouched in the middle.

The lead diplomat rose in his chair at Harry's arrival. He was dressed in the same practical vacsuit fashion that predominated among the spaceborn lifestyle here. And just like the rest, all of the suits of the representatives present had the annoying blinking symbols and letters streaking over their form like a bad lovechild from those old sci-fi muggle movies. The old, graying man in front of him carried the same color scheme as the rest: purple and blue in gentle, circular lines.

"I bid you welcome in our embrace." The man greeted. "May the serene currents of quantum probabilities fall upon a favorable outcome in this universe."

Harry looked numbly at the priest-like figure.

Luckily, Claris was there to rescue him. "We receive your prediction in utmost objectivity."

"Are you a quantum existentialist?" The diplomat asked, suddenly interested that the pirates had someone sophisticated enough in their midst to recognize the ritual.

"No. But I am familiar with the protocols."

"You are most gracious milady. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Lieutenant Claris, executive officer and second-in-command of the _Eviscerator_."

"Our quantum universe is blessed to have such beauty in existence." He complemented. The diplomat then turned his attention to a confused looking Harry. "I see you do not comprehend."

"And who the bloody hell are you supposed to be?" Harry finally let out, somewhat pissed out he was being made out for a fool. He took a seat at the table and rudely leaned back in a slouch. "You better answer quickly, because I have little patience for prattling."

The old head of the Ioan diplomatic delegation let the insult smooth over his being. With a calm and gentle smile, he bowed in respect. "My apologies, sir. I am remiss. Let me introduce myself to you then. I am Ambassador Arlian Di Vente of the Purple Synth. I head the diplomatic delegation on board the passenger liners that you have so brazenly threatened."

"And I'm Captain Harry. Piss me off and I'll let my men rape every one of your fine bitches on your ships before we pass them on to the whorehouses for second servings."

The only non-diplomat in the small delegation promptly stood up and was about to make some choice words at Harry. "Now wait here, you filth, you can't just—"'

"Lieutenant Farsa! You overstep your _bounds_." Ambassador Arlian cracked with a sharp and very jarring tone that seemed to be perfectly modulated to stop everyone in their tracks. Even Harry didn't escape its effect. This ambassador was more formidable than he first appeared. The geezer bore closer scrutiny.

"I offer my apologies again for my colleague's rude interruption." Arlian supplied, glaring slightly at the black-dressed lieutenant who appeared to wear a military uniform that closely resembled Claris' design. "If not for his.. expertise, he would not have been present here at this unfortunate discussion."

If he were a little bit more paranoid, Harry would have thought all this posturing was a ploy to affect him in some clever psychological trap. As it was, he was simply annoyed. "Can we get on with your proposal already? If I don't return back to my ship in an hour, something really bad is going to happen. So for all your sake, don't waste my time."

The lead ambassador sat back in his chair and nodded in agreement. "Very well. Let me start by saying that as we sit as enemies, I hope we can reach an accord and leave as allies. The potential for a mutually beneficial agreement exists. We just have to make a leap of faith and hope our quantum universe is a blessed one."

He typed a command in his wristpad, which caused a hidden projector to turn alive, showing the terms of their offer. "As we have stated earlier, we are prepared to offer you the principal payment of your client if you leave us alone, a sum of two-hundred-and-fifty million credits I believe. If you help restore our passenger liner's engines and escort us safely to Europa, then our government will advance a bounty of a hundred-and-twenty-five million credits. We will transfer the same amount of funds for an escort back to Io if you are willing to agree to the extended terms of our offer."

"And that's signing up as a privateer under your flag, right?"

"That, and other perks." Arlian confirmed. "You will be entitled to requisition most of our military hardware at discount and gain access to our other naval facilities such as our repair yards. You and your crew will also be granted Ioan citizenship, with the full rights and obligations that entails. As an additional gesture of our generosity, we are willing to let you use our Gravitic Catapult to send you to any destination that you wish without restriction for one, single jump."

Listening intently, Harry frowned a little as he thought the offer over. What they offered was incredibly generous. "There's always a catch."

"That.. is true. The requirements that we would impose on you depend on the degree of cooperation you are willing to extend to us. We have several grades of privateers in our space fleet. You are not the first pirate that we have put in our retainer."

The wizard turned to Claris with a skeptical expression. "Is this true, Claris?"

"The Ioans along with the other three Jovian powers are known to enlist the services of pirates." She admitted.

The lifelong pirate wouldn't go down without a fight though. Harry had the potential to be the greatest pirate in the universe with his powers. He had no business serving one of the many capricious powers that ruled this dump of a solar system. Having cleaned up more than a few of their messes in her service under several pirate captains had wizened Claris up. She had a raw perspective of just how sleazy and underhanded those in power were in order to guarantee their positions and wealth. The law was an illusion, a trap for the gullible and the ignorant. The only truth was strength, and she needed to sway Harry to her point of view before Selner's idealism would make them walk down the path of ruin.

"But they are deceitful employers." Claris continued on, hoping her sincerity would match her fervor. "Privateers are both pirates and law enforcers. People like him," She pointed to the glowering Lieutenant Farsa. "Will never trust you. Heck, at best they'll just treat you like a mutt. Oh sure, they throw a bone every now and then to keep you appeased, but they won't hesitate to abandon you out in the cold when the potato gets too hot. And with your new legal status, you'll be blacklisted by pretty much every pirate station in the solar system. You won't be able to turn to anyone else."

The boy looked shaded as soon as she started on the mutt metaphor. Good. Claris knew that the best way to hurt him was through his pride and above all his need for control. Take away both, and he would never commit himself to such a humiliation. She only had to prod him in the right direction.

Of course, Arlian didn't take the words to kindly, but took the time to formulate a careful response. He didn't become one of the chief ambassadors of his nation without mastering the art of persuasion. "While I cannot refute Lady Claris' arguments completely, but the life of a privateer is not as bad as it sounds like. We offer amnesty to those who desire it. While the stains of your past sins will not be easily forgotten, we allow pirates to start a new life. I can assure you that my colleagues back on Io will not object to our offer. Compared to other pirates in our employ, your list of misdeeds is surprisingly short, Captain Harry. You have been the cause of only a handful of civilian deaths, according to the public record that's been floating around on the net recently."

"There's a file on the internet about me?"

The Ambassador smiled and input another set of commands on his wrist pad. The shuttle's receptors took a few seconds to latch onto the information stream and process its request. The projector showed Harry's file as soon as some other transmitter sent the pertinent information.

"Many of your crimes against legal instances belong either to neutral or hostile factions to Io. As far as we are concerned, your historical pattern shows that you have already worked in our interests. We merely wish to formalize this relationship and explore a more fruitful alliance. I can assure you that, while you will not enjoy the most favorable of popular opinion, all privateers are adequately taken care of. They are under the direct supervision of the Ioan Navy, which frequently renders assistance to its extended forces. If possible, you may rise up the ranks in our privateer force and perhaps occupy an important position one day."

"That sounds great.. if I was actually interested in sticking around in Jupiter's neighborhood." Harry threw in casually, knowing it would throw everyone off a little. "I don't care about climbing any career ladders or securing some kind of dinky retirement home on a godforsaken moon. I just want to use your Gravitic Catapult and leave to take care of my unfinished business."

The diplomats looked at each other in puzzlement, before a black-haired fellow besides Arlian spoke up. "Well, that may prove to be a complication, but not a significant one, I can assure you." The man had the gall to smile as if everything would fall into place. "Some of our notable enemies are corporations based on other planets and moons. A handful of them have a presence in every corner of this solar system. Every setback you deliver to the assets of these corporations would be recorded in our systems, to which appropriate compensation is provided. You can pick up your credit reward at any friendly port-of-call."

'_Now we're talking.'_ Harry never had the intention of fighting against the entire world. He just wanted to restore his magic and carve out a new life for himself in this new world while guarding himself against any remnants of the Wizarding World. Doing so under the aegis of a great power would be significantly easier than blundering from planet to planet as an outlaw.

But if there is one thing Harry hated above all, it was being confined in his freedom of movement. He didn't trust any government to have his best interests at heart. The Ministry of Magic had stabbed him too many times in the back for him to ever regain his trust in civil servants. From what he heard from Claris and the rest, the centuries-old institutions that ruled over everyone were just as inbred and fossilized as those that ruled in the twenty-first century.

All he heard so far was a desperate sales pitch. The wizard's patience started to run out, but he would give his guests a few more minutes to sway him over.

"If I decide to go on this path, what will be my restrictions?"

"As I've said," Arlian answered. "That depends on the grade of involvement you are willing to put in. At our most basic level, we will simply have a hidden agreement not to attack each other's assets. You will receive a bounty for every enemy target in our database, but you will not be publically known as a privateer in our retainer."

That didn't sound too good to Harry. With his relationship to the Ioan government a secret, the Ioans could easily get rid of him and deny that he was one of their own. After all, who would mourn the death of another pirate?

"The second option is to join our freelance privateering force. You will officially be listed in our official rolls, granting you complete legal amnesty of your crimes thus far. You will additionally be able to benefit from Io's military facilities as detailed earlier. While you retain the right to attack any of our enemies, you will have to agree to be bound to some minimal restrictions, as you will be flying under the flag of our nation."

"And what are these restrictions?"

"We will have to ask you to abide by the Commerce Code. When raiding civilian targets, you should avoid excessive bloodshed and refrain from extreme actions such as shooting down escape pods or engage in any acts of rape. A navy liaison will be put aboard your ship to keep an eye whether you abide by these rules."

"Hmmm.. alright. Are there any other alternatives?"

"Well…" Arlian glanced towards the navy lieutenant before turning back to Harry. "In the most extreme case, a qualified pirate captain may be drafted by the navy directly to serve in their Expeditionary Fleet. You will still retain a measure of independent command and keep your ship, but in many other aspects you are obligated to adopt the navy's standards. While this may seem very restrictive, this option allows a pirate captain and his crew to become a permanent part of the navy, subject to all the privileges and duties that entails. A navy captain is regarded very highly in our society. It is the ideal path to high society if you are successful in your raids."

All in all, Ambassador Arlian offered three different enticing options, although Harry doubted he would actually qualify for the last one. The problem was that the first option left Harry vulnerable to betrayal, while the second option cut back on his… options. He was never a man who was content to live by the rules. Rules were often discarded in expedience. Did Arlian think Harry could be bribed with credits and luxuries?

"What makes you think I can trust you to keep your words?" He asked the delegation with an edge to his voice.

"Our notary can draw up a personalized contract in a handful of minutes. We only have to sign our electronic signatures and it will take effect the moment our bureau back in Io sends back its confirmation. Of course, you must understand that a contract signed under these extraordinary circumstances do not take full legal effect with a few waves of our hands. Depending on the clauses present in our agreement, we might have to seek approval from the navy headquarters or from the Bureau of Interlunar Relations. You identity must be screened until we are certain that the complete measure of your life. Then we will have to…"

Bla. Bla. Bla. Harry had heard enough. If this windbag thought he would be appeased with a useless piece of electronic paper, he was wrong. Contracts were merely methods to formalize empty promises. As soon as these cowards escaped into safety, they would probably turn their entire navy against him. He would not fall for this trap again.

The boy brazenly stood up, his eyes set in stone as he regarded the bunch of officials with contempt. "I think I've heard enough. I see that you don't really want to help me. Well guess what, I don't need your help either. I only came here to hear you out, and I have. I think you've been forgetting who's in charge here."

"Sir, honored captain, If you would just let me lay out clauses three to forty-nine of our contract enforcement protocol, I can—"

Tired of Arlian's perfectly honed speech patterns, Harry drew his revolved and abruptly shot a bolt of plasma on the roof above the diplomats. Everyone screamed as they hurriedly jumped from their seats to dodge the falling sprays of plasma. The black-haired person next to Arlian wasn't as lucky though, and caught a few searing droplets on his arm. The man shrieked in agony as his fellow Ioans dragging him from the center of the room and retrieved an emergency kit from the shuttle's compartment to treat his wounds. The ambassadors regarded Harry with a newfound sense of fear.

The wizard soaked in the emotions in the room with a vivid rush. It intoxicated him, bringing out his forceful side to the fore. Claris stood up next to him and pressed herself against his side, clearly approving this course of action. She leaned her head to his ear to give him her advice. "Kill them all. Diplomats are highly skilled in manipulation. Don't let yourself be duped."

Nodding, Harry made a signal to his security team who were holding guard off the side. "Dispose of these vermin and dump them out of the airlock."

As his soldiers raised their pistols to end the lives of the civilians in a single volley, the lead ambassador called out a cry with his strongest commanding voice.

"_**HALT!**__"_

Everyone stood still, stunned into silence by the brain-jarring tone. Centuries of study into brain psychology and linguistics had allowed scientists to crack the secrets of command. Every aristocrat worth his salt had trained in the use of the Voice. In a society where relationships mattered and where misunderstandings were fatal, rhetoric and speechcraft were the only weapons properly designed to deal with these threats.

Knowing that the young captain would soon shrug off from his compulsion, Arlian hastily revealed his final weapon, aware that his rope was just about to run out.

"If you have so little faith in our contracts, I can offer a much stronger alternative." The old man pressed a lengthy security key code on his wristpad.

* * *

The hatch to the cockpit opened to reveal a startling sight. A stunning young woman just shy of seventeen stepped out with matchless grace. Her flowing dress of red appeared utterly unlike the utilitarian vacsuits that other spacers seemed to prefer. The fabric was natural, soft, and emphasized her lithe dancer's body. Her light blond hair was put up in a remarkable display of braids and flowing trickles of strands. The only fault that marred her beauty was her frightened, tear-streaked face.

The girl nevertheless managed to curtsy before the entranced looking captain. "Lady Amande of the House of Antares, at your pleasure, sir."

"A member of the House of Antares?" Claris breathed out, hardly even believing her eyes. "Do you have proof of identification?"

The young woman held out an information cube, which Claris quickly snatched from her hands. The lieutenant handed it over to Janis. "Confirm her identity as thoroughly as possible. Take your time and be sure to take additional samples."

The veteran warrior nodded and stored the information cube into a slot in her armor. Janis went over to Lady Amande to extract tissue samples and take a brief scan on the identichip embedded in her head. When she was finished, the pirate retreated back into the corner in order to work on the task at hand.

Feeling rather out of his depth, Harry asked Claris for clarification.

"The House of Antares is the ruling dynasty of Io." She whispered back, not letting the others hear or even lip read her words. "They are the closest equivalent to a royal family as you can get. While Io is not formally ruled as an absolute monarchy, its power is passed over in a hereditary fashion. I've never heard of Lady Amande, so I do not think she is directly in line for the throne. Not all of their relatives are worth their weight in diamond."

The lieutenant turned back to Lady Amande and asked, "What is your lineage?"

"I am the second granddaughter of the current ruler's brother and eleventh in line of the throne." The lady announced with practiced ease. A part of her poise returned after her assertion. "Do with me as you will, but if you but touch one hair of me, my entire House will hound you until the ends of time."

The bitch had no idea what she was talking about. Harry smirked and met Arlian's eyes. "So you're offering a pretty princess as our hostage, is that it? I keep from shooting off her brains, and you guys keep from stabbing me in the back?"

"That is correct. Io will not allow a branch member of the House of Antares to fall into harm."

"He's lying." Claris icily accused. "Several daughters have been married off to rival Houses only for them to be sacrificed to achieve a greater aim. The Dictat of Io has many grandnieces. He's not going to miss a single relative who barely shares his blood."

"While our past Dictats may have… treated their extended family with less than caring love, our current ruler is not so heartless to resort to such trickery. We have married off half a dozen branch members to our foreign allies, and our bonds remain strong with them. Our historical record is completely transparent. You can check the net yourself."

Taking a princess hostage was not what Harry had in mind, but it was an attractive alternative. The only problem was that Claris thought the Ioans wouldn't keep their word even if he held a member of the House of Antares at knife point He had to find a stronger measure of assurance that the Ioans wouldn't plot against him later on when they were in a stronger position. How could he accomplish this and keep their more volatile elements in their administration in line?

As Harry heard out Arlian's assurances and read a few files from the solar-wide internet, he began to form a picture. The current Dictat of Io seemed to make a big deal out of the political marriages of his House. Harry could imagine why. With all the backstabbing, rulers couldn't expect everyone for being sincere in their contracts. The only real way to insure their loyalty was to co-opt them into the ruler's family. The bond of blood cut much deeper than the bond of mutual interest. The alliances built up through family connections would stay strong unless the patriarch of the family stopped respecting these bonds. The loss of trust would be disastrous for the family's fortune.

Perhaps there was a way for Harry to threaten more than just the life of a single disposable royal.

"What would happen if the Lady Amande were to get married, only for her husband to encounter an 'accident' later on?" The boy mused openly. "What will those powerful CEOs and nobles married to other spouses of the House of Antares think? Will they start to doubt the sincerity of the Dictat? If betrayals like this were frequent in the past, perhaps they might fear such a resurgence."

"They won't honor a marriage with a lawless pirate." Claris hissed with a touch of urgency. "You have no rights in their jurisdiction."

"If I sign up to them, I'll be a lawful privateer. They can't betray me openly in that way unless they paint me as an outlaw again, which won't be a good idea if I actually don't do anything wrong. The other people in power who are married into the House of Antares will start to fear that they too might one day be subjected to an excuse that will make them out as a criminal and be disposed of in the same manner."

Some things just stayed the same no matter in what time period Harry ended up in.

One of the delegation members sputtered. "You _dare_ ask the hand of Lady Amande in marriage?"

"It's that, or slavery. Pick your poison." Harry responded poignantly. "I won't be lenient to anyone, including Amande. I think some whorehouses might pay a handsome amount of credits to see her in their display. Maybe they'll make a holovid out of her performance."

Lady Amande broke down in tears as she collapsed on the floor. Arlian immediately went by her side. "Milady!"

As the woman bawled out her despair, everyone else besides Arlian sat silent. There was little room to maneuver. Either the pirate captain sold them all to a life of despair, or they could choose to relent and allow the House of Antares to be soiled by inducting a known outlaw in their royal lineage. Both choices were unpalatable options. The good of Io was best served if he ordered the passenger liners to overload their reactors and grant everyone a mercifully swift death. To let Amande face the indignity of anything else involving this brute of a pirate would drag down the name of the ruling dynasty, opening cracks that other Houses might exploit.

But.. in the end, did Arlian even deserve the right to decide over Lady Amande's fate? He could open a direct channel to Io and ask for further instructions, but such a direct method of communication would instantly be sniffed out by the other lunar powers. Whole battle fleets would descend on their position like preying sharks to annihilate them – or worse, take Lady Amande hostage for their own nefarious purposes. At least in Captain Harry's hands, Amande could stay alive and safe, if a bit soiled. Their rival powers were not so lenient.

The mission wasn't supposed to end like this. Their convoy should have arrived to Europa safely. He should have met with his Europan counterpart to hammer out not just a non-aggression pact, but also various other naval and commercial collaborations with the help of hundreds of affluent officials who came along. The whole negotiation round would finally peak at the end when he would graciously offer Lady Amande's betrothal to one of Europa's favored sons as a nucleus to an enduring alliance.

Arlian could still achieve most of his goals set forth by his superiors if he had the stomach to abandon Lady Amande. Io wouldn't have another stab at peace if he failed in his mission. His choice could very well decide the fate of Io and the House of Antares. This was a burden he was not prepared to shoulder. Only a member of the House itself was allowed to chart the course of Io's future.

"Captain Harry, you have left us with a difficult conundrum. Will you please give us some time alone to discuss our options?"

The boy nodded slowly after he thought the proposal over. "I guess it couldn't hurt. I need to board the _Lancelot _anyway to check over some things before we are ready to leave this battlefield. You better make up your minds when I return. I don't like to talk all day."

With that implicit threat hanging over the diplomats' heads, Harry left the shuttle to board his cutter. Thoughts of marrying himself into politics swirled in his mind. Despite Claris' tutoring on intrastellar affairs, he knew very little of the minefield he was potentially heading into. He had lived out so much of his life a dogged fugitive that it defined his existence. But was it right to continue in this never-ending spiral when all the enemies he used to fight against were extinct? Sure, these new interlunar powers sounded a bit too similar to the Wizarding World to trust completely, but that didn't mean they all meant ill.

He only wanted to reach Earth and retrieve his cache of magical supplies in order to rid himself from his enfeebling curses. What did he wish do after that? Would he wander the solar system in search of any remnants of magic? Rise in the ranks of Io's military until he carves out a nice retirement for himself? He couldn't very well rape and pillage his way through the universe. Making an enemy of the Wizarding World was one thing. Picking a fight with every lunar and planetary power was another. He needed to reorient himself and adapt to these new chaotic times.

Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. For now, he decided to leave all that crap for later and focus on securing funds. With money alone, he could gather intel and prepare for a way to land on Earth without getting blasted apart by the Hegemony's formidable defenses. The rest could wait.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	22. I: Consolidation of Forces - Repost

May 9, 2011  
Repost: November 13, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Consolidation of Forces_

* * *

The salvage and repair processes went well on their way. With no enemies in sight, they had the luxury to pick through the battlefield.

The cutter traveled leisurely towards the silent _Lancelot_. Hours after the battle, the pirate destroyer had miraculously recovered and wordlessly accepted any commands sent to it. When it was ordered secure a prize, the damaged ship obediently vectored towards the reactor-less enemy pulse destroyer and extended her towing cables. With a prize ship carefully in tow, the _Lancelot_ traveled back to the small formation of survivors.

The disabled mercenary missile destroyer – with the _Light of Pericles _still attached to its hull – floated lifelessly as the overworked prize crew tried to bring the systems back online. The two passenger liners stood off-ways, kept obediently in place by the fighters hovering around them. The _Eviscerator _itself sat in the center of the formation. She was one of the two remaining combat-capable warships. The _Lancelot _was the other.

Turmoil swirled in Claris' stomach. The choices her captain took were so counter-intuitive this past few hours. It was as if he was replaced with a different personality. Ordinarily, he seemed so eager to kill and destroy. Yet he was also purposeful, never causing needless harm and always spending his time efficiently. Could it be that he started to tire from lashing out with his mindless rage? Was he starting to change his ambition into something greater?

Hearing him speak openly of abandoning his pirate lifestyle sounded disconcerting. Claris had promised to serve Harry unconditionally, but that was when she thought he was an upstart with a violent temper. The truth was much more than that. Harry seemed to be old. Old enough to remember vivid details about a world before humans colonized the solar system. He appeared to be displaced from that time and knew little about modern conventions. The wizard didn't let that faze him in the slightest though. His confidence bulldozed through any obstacle in his way.

With his awesome powers and fearsome command, Harry could have gone far with his magical powers. Now, he seemed to be on the brink on giving up that dream. She couldn't let him go down this road without doing something. Therefore, she did something that she had never done before, what few ever dared to do openly. She questioned his actions.

"Captain.. may I have a word with you?"

Harry raised his eyes to regard his subordinate with a closer eye. Her slender body sat stiff, and for once, her dark red uniform seemed not to fit her like a glove. If something troubled his second-in-command, then he needed to hear about it.

"Speak your mind, Claris. I value your counsel."

"Well sir, it's… about becoming a privateer. I don't think it's a good idea to work together with these Ioans. They won't forgive you for forcing yourself onto that Antares girl. A ruling House can't let themselves be seen to be weak. They'll surely retaliate in some way. Are you sure you wish to continue with this course of action?"

Running his hand over his immobilized arm, the boy thought over her words. His subordinate did have some merit. "The Dictat or whatever council of elders that rules Io probably planned to marry Lady Amande off to some Europan noble in order to get something back in return. I don't think they'll be too discriminating on how they get that return. I'll just have to prove that I can be of value to them, though that will be difficult to achieve with my magic constrained as it is…"

"Simply marrying into the family will have already cost them much prestige. It's never good for business to be so openly associated with the scum that are raiding their trading convoys."

Harry snorted at that. "Oh please, they're all hypocrites. It's not like their hands are clean. Besides, I don't care so much for the House of Antares. I just need the funds and access to their facilities in order to prepare for my return to Earth. We can also use the military-grade equipment for all the risks we're about to take. The Evie's not cutting it anymore with what I have in mind, but the ship market on Trindebal is too focused on second-hand ships. The battle we won on this day already proved that versatility only went so far. If we didn't carry a torpedo mount, we would have been at the mercy of our enemies."

"You're planning on replacing the _Eviscerator_?"

The quaint mobile carrier had been her home for several years now, and she was reluctant to see it go. Still, with the Ioan buyout and the sale of all the prize ships they were gathering today, they had more than enough credits to acquire a cruiser-class vessel. With that kind of money, Harry could even start his own business.

"Something like that. It depends on our financial state once we cash in all our earnings. I'm thinking on putting some of that money to use by setting up a presence on Io."

Their little talk paused abruptly as the cutter signaled its imminent arrival at the _Lancelot_'s side. The little boat shook as the _Lancelot_'s extended boarding nozzle mated with the cutter's hatch. Both systems exchanged information before chiming the okay signal. Both passengers stood up and walked the short distance to the _Lancelot_'s entry chamber.

"By the way captain… you never revealed to us how you managed to take control of the _Lancelot_. Did you convert a handful of them with your Mark?"

Harry shook his head, then tapped his arm at the spot where the Mark was supposed to be. "The Mark isn't as powerful as everyone thinks it is. It doesn't change people's behavior, but only reinforces the emotions that I find desirable. The only real compulsion embedded into the Mark is the need to keep the existence of magic a secret, and that only works by increasing the bearer's pain until he dies if he persists, so it isn't really mind magic."

"Don't you have any alternatives?" Claris thought it strange that Harry could transform objects, repair broken equipment and strengthen materials, but he was unable to read someone's mind.

"There are stronger spells to control the will of others, yes, but they are costly in magic and rely on either ambient magic, of which there is precious little here in empty space, or the victim's internal magic, meaning that the spell will usually fade after a short while if they are muggles. Only the Mark is faint enough to be sustained indefinitely by any muggle's undeveloped magical core. It's also entrenched enough not to be dispelled by a burst of nEMP, since it imprints itself on the soul rather than the body. I can't come up with anything better without my books."

The lieutenant tried to wrap her head around Harry's limitations. The strange abilities her captain had exhibited seemed so otherworldly that she could hardly imagine it could be bound by rules and natural laws. She had a notion that there must have been many magicians like Harry himself back in his time. Did they still exist, and were there any more of them? The universe and all its workings she knew so well suddenly seemed more complex. It was difficult to gauge the extent of Harry's powers.

"If I was any good in reading or manipulating minds, I wouldn't have been stuck in the ass-end of the solar system in the first place." The boy muttered despondently. Battle magic had its limits after all. If he was any good at Divination he would have foreseen the trap lying in wait at the ruins of Hogwarts.

He hadn't answered her question yet. "How were you able to subdue the _Lancelot _then if the Mark is insufficient?"

"You'll see.. the Imperious curse isn't the only spell that's capable of altering behavior.. It's better to play with my strengths."

The answer of what had happened to the _Lancelot_ lay in wait at the end of the walkway. They reached the hatch at the end and inserted their security codes on the Lance's control pad, granting them access inside the damaged but functional destroyer.

The entry chamber looked like it had seen better days. Some of the power lines had exploded, causing burn and tear marks to mar the normally pleasant room. Further battle damage sustained by the ship had thrown a few things back and forth. It looked like the crew had already cleaned up most of the debris though. That was awfully quick of them. Dumb too, since the crew must have had loads of fires to put out before they had to worry about upturned chairs or something similarly trivial. What was going on exactly?

The lieutenant turned around only to come face to face with an alien.

"What is that?"

A horrific looking creature blinked up at them with its overly large eyes. As the raggedly clothed monster spotted Harry, it suddenly grinned in excitement.

"Master Harry has arrived! Master Harry has arrived!"

Sudden pops exploded all over them as the entry chamber became filled with more of the disgusting aliens. How they appeared Claris didn't have a clue. They may have hidden in plain sight through some sophisticated stealth technology, or appeared in the room through some highly advanced teleportation technology. The short and skinny life forms crowded around Harry, practically pushing Claris away from the mob. They all seemed rejoiced, and shouted things in plain English. What manner of extraterrestrials were these creatures to have taken over the ship so effectively?

Eventually, Harry raised a hand to silence the aliens. He addressed the most impressively dressed one, who wore a scrappy ensemble of a military uniform. The little alien had the audacity to give Harry a mock salute.

"Marly here, at your service Master!"

"Ah, Lieutenant Marlow, how good to see you in this new.. state. Have you managed to subdue Captain Rysa?"

The tiny creature vigorously bobbed its head. "You would like to see her, Master Harry?"

"I would. Please bring her forward."

The alien disappeared in an apparent twisting of reality, only to appear in the same manner a few seconds later. With a human in tow. One who immediately vomited to the floor.

Captain Rysa appeared much the same like the dignified ship commander they had met at Trindebal. She had obviously been taken care of as her uniform remained clean and her hair remained neatly tied despite the battle damage the _Lancelot_ sustained. The only marks of imperfection visible were the restraint on her arms and the conspicuous lack of weapons on her belt. Bound, helpless and surrounded by an army of teleporting aliens, Rysa was at their mercy. She glared at Harry.

"So it was _you_ who infected Captain Prestor's men with this disease that made them into the mutants they are now. Why have you spared me? Are you going to take me like you did with Captain Gloria?"

His hand rose to brush Rysa's cheek, to which she couldn't help but flinch. Harry smirked. "Nothing so crude, my dear. You're.. a bit too aged for my tastes. I have a different purpose in mind for you. While house-elves are good at what they do, they are also remarkably stupid. I need at least one levelheaded human who can captain this ship. Since you've got a solid track record and a good range of technical competencies, you'd be perfect for the job. Would you like to receive that honor?"

"What will you do if I refuse?"

He gestured towards the house-elves, all wide-eyed and eager as they followed the conversation. The implication was clear.

"I… see." The woman sunk in defeat. "Do with me as you will. Just don't turn me into those sycophantic aliens."

"Very well." He approached Captain Rysa and pressed his thumb on her arm. The Mark seared into her skin with an agonizing burn. "Submit to me."

The once prideful captain did as he said and complied fully with Harry's dictations. Claris could only watch in helpless dread as her captain bound his magic with the alien life forms he called house-elves, and put them under the command of the newly inducted Captain Rysa. She had little choice in the matter. Her fear of being turned into the same disgusting creatures that crowded them around with their idiotic yells was a powerful motivator. Anyone would hate being turned into those ugly creatures.

"I'll transfer ten of my men to you to keep your ship together." He instructed Rysa, who was still coping with the revelation of magic. "The house-elves probably retain their previous skills, but it'll fade away eventually since they are only meant to perform housekeeping." House-elves who were actually competent in other occupations such as working at the Ministry or becoming an Auror represented threats to Wizard supremacy. "I suggest you use their magic to repair your ship as best you can. They retain that talent at least."

As soon as the transfer order was sent, the crowd dispersed and everyone went on their way. If there was one useful side-effect to house-elf magic, it was that they could repair EMP-resistant electronics as good as Harry could but without bothering with runes. He could practically kiss Godric Gryffindor's ass for inventing the house-elf curse. After confirming the effectiveness of house-elf magic with his own two eyes, Harry detailed a handful of more elves to join the repair duty on the prize ships. Every crew member under his command had to get used to working alongside the elves. They were too useful with their talents.

After sorting out the remaining issues with Captain Rysa, Harry and Claris bid their farewell and boarded their cutter. The pilot set his course to the shuttle bearing Lady Amande and the diplomats. It was time to wrap up this day and head for a port to cash in their earnings, whether it be Trindebal or Europa. Harry briefly considered apparating to the shuttle, but he had no wish to test freshly born house-elves over such a long distance in open space. Long distances were usually traversed by portkey, and he had no need to challenge that convention.

* * *

Those who were born into the House of Antares carried a great burden. As the successors of early pioneers who bought large swathes of territory on the once-pristine moon of Io, they possessed wealth and power beyond any plebeian's reach. A council of Terran officials once ruled the frontier planet, but the wealthy landowners who detested foreign interference swiftly dealt with this inefficient system. When the Terran-Martian Wars broke out, the neglected colonies in the outer rim of the solar system gleefully took advantage of Earth's preoccupation and booted their foreign overseers out. It was hard establishing a self-sufficient economy during those chaotic times, but the successful economic reforms that the first Dictat laid out had firmly established the House of Antares as the rightful rulers of Io.

Running an entire lunar government was a huge responsibility. Assassins, rival Houses and greedy corporations continued to challenge the Dictat's rule. To insulate their control over Io and establish an extra layer of defense, his family members were encouraged to branch out and expand the Antares empire into the corporate world. The goal was to keep Io's markets fragmented and in effective control by the government, preventing the emergence of monopolies who might wield undue influence over the family. Other family members left the safety of Io and attached themselves to foreign societies. These exotic trade links were always desirable, especially when it meant they could gain privileged access to unique commodities. Many corporations outside Jupiter's orbit offered products far superior to their competitors, and getting your hands on them required not just a lot of credits, but also the right connections. An alliance bound by marriage was the most reliable form of partnerships in this ruthless solar system.

Lady Amande expected to do her duty and perform this role for her House. It was what she had been groomed in since her birth. Ever since the noble lady received word of her assignment, she had spent months mooning over the candidates picked out by her mother, all Europan heirs who were on the rise. Though Amande ranked rather low on the family's hierarchy, mere access to the inner circle of House Antares was enough to entice the most prominent industrialists. She had definitely been on the rise.

But it was not to be. Ambassador Arlian's incredibly risky gamble in attempting to cease the constant aggression between Io and Europa had failed. The vicious band of pirates, who were no doubt sent by nefarious powers, caught them despite their elaborate ruse to disguise their purpose. Now they had to make a difficult choice. They could choose whether to meet the demands of this young Captain Harry, or to sacrifice their lives in order to preserve the dignity of the House. Both carried grave consequences that would either benefit or harm the Antares family's interests.

Despite her fragile, doll-like appearance, Lady Amande carried a splendid mind honed by the finest tutors. Once she let her grief pass over, she tried to assume the role of command that her granduncle radiated naturally. She let the diplomats argue among themselves and weighed all their points by their own merit. When the deadline approached, she finally made her decision.

"Enough." She announced coolly, using a precise but mellow tone that would cut through the chatter like a hot knife through butter. "There is nothing more that can be said that can sway my decision. I will wed with Captain Harry and bring him into the fold of the House of Antares. We have little choice. To waste away our lives by refusing his mild request would accomplish nothing but missing an opportunity to engage in confidential diplomatic negotiations with Europa. Our House's reputation may suffer a little, yes, but the fallout can be mitigated. Arlian, you said that Harry's historical profile comes up empty, correct?"

"There's no trace of him at all in our databases. It's like he didn't exist at all three months ago. His biometrics doesn't match to any other individual registered in the public census."

The woman nodded in satisfaction. "Then we can forge an identity for him ourselves. Let's make him out as a graduate of one of our covert programs, and claim that he has been sent to infiltrate the pirate ranks as our spy. His role in betraying his fellow pirates should provide credence to this theory."

"Not everyone will be fooled by our planted information." One of the diplomats cautioned. "They'll see the announcement as it is – a desperate ploy to spin your humiliation as a brilliant coup."

"We cannot expect to fool everyone." Arlian conceded as he sat defeated on his chair. "But as long as most of the sheep are fooled, our perceived weakness will be covered. That's not our main concern." He turned to the noblewoman. "Milady, aren't you in anyway apprehensive in partnering with that.. brute?"

The question caused her to pause. The risk of mistreatment was substantial. She could not imagine how harshly that brute would behave in her presence. "I cannot deny my fear.. but we will just have to insist on marriage clauses that will annul our partnership at the sign of any abuse." She smirked a little then as she thought of the bright sides of this marriage. "And I suspect I will not have to tolerate the cretin for long.. piracy and privateering is such a dangerous occupation. The credit reward he will receive from our deal will make him one of the richest privateers in Io's employ. If he were to succumb to an occupational hazard, then all of his personal wealth will fall under my control. I will just have to bear with the neobarbarian for a few years at most."

"I… see." Arlian trailed off, rather off-put by Amande's nonchalance.

While many members of the House of Antares held high positions of wealth and prestige, few actually owned much personal wealth. The members were expected to work for the good of the House. Only a handful bothered to invest their salaries into privately owned assets. Harry's future wealth could fund many profitable enterprises. Owning all that wealth would raise Lady Amande's standing in Jovian society.

"Enough discussion. Let us prepare for the impending wedding. I want to get this over with on our current terms before that brat changes his mind."

The gathering went into a flurry of activity as they prepared for the coming proceedings. For better or worse, Amande had committed herself to a marriage of convenience that did not seem very fruitful.

* * *

The political marriage was a short and quiet ceremony on the _Eviscerator_. While the Ioans had prepared an entire banquet hall and wedding chapel on one of the liners, Harry didn't want to risk stepping inside the ship where he could be taken captive by some madmen who may subsequently threaten to overload the fusion reactor.

The boy was ridiculously paranoid, and refused to budge from his decision. He didn't want to wait until they reached Europa for the marriage either, since without the ceremony he was still an outlaw in the eyes of the authority. Amande had no choice but to relent, and give up her dream of a perfect marriage.

No girl desired a wedding that took place in a cramped and barely aesthetic mess hall. The crew had not even bothered to decorate the dull furnishings of the utilitarian compartment. None of her relatives or friends was with her as she kissed her groom, save for the small gaggle of diplomats and representatives that were allowed to witness the occurrence. To marry among a crowd of vicious-looking pirates was intensely depressing for Lady Amande. She could barely hold on to her tears until they were out of sight.

Captain Harry, now provisionally Harry Antares, stopped in his tracks and turned to his newly christened wife. "What's the matter?"

"You could have at least let me marry with a white wedding dress and a big wedding cake!" She screeched out between her tears. "You've ruined me! I hate you, I HATE you!"

Sighing deeply, Harry carefully embraced the girl, letting her tears fall against his battle robes, which he didn't bother to replace for the wedding. He had no patience for enduring another bombastic wedding. As far as he was concerned, his wedding to the love of his life nine hundred years ago had been the only one that mattered. To go through the same joyous ceremony would wrench his heart. He didn't wish to dredge up those precious memories just for the sake of a political alliance.

He did not love his new wife. Harry didn't expect her to develop feelings for him either. He already loved Dr. Selner of sorts, and felt no urgent need to force Amande into his bed. Besides, the girl looked so delicate at this moment. A small part of his psyche wanted to break her innocence and establish his dominance over her. The rest of him just didn't care, a large part due to the fact that Selner had already extracted all the juice out of his testicles a few hours earlier. His concubine already satisfied him enough. Two women might be too much for him.

Harry knew he could get away with a little rough treatment despite the restrictions put into the marriage contract. Still.. a partnership was a partnership. If he wanted any genuine cooperation out of this crying little bird, then he needed her to remain herself. He didn't think her father or the Dictat himself would hold back if they saw her tearing up like this. Seeing loved ones hurt could drive people into an irrational anger. Harry was no stranger to that emotion.

Still, before he could retire for the day, he still needed to reveal the existence of magic to his wife.

"Amande.. there is something you need to know."

As he held her attention, he plucked one of Amande's jewel-encrusted rings from her lace-covered finger and placed it on the cold metal floor. Pricking his thumb, he carefully drew an intricate circle of Egyptian runes with his single working arm, then let a few drops fall onto the jewels themselves. He then retrieved a chink of Hippogriff bone from his pocket and set it down besides the ring. When all of the elements were set in properly, the wizard sent a tiny magical trickle to activate the magical array.

After the small flash disappeared, Harry bent down to retrieve the glowing ruby ring. The gold took on a pale sheen and course texture. The jewel at the center pulsed with Harry's magic as it greedily tried to siphon Harry's stored reserves. When she slipped the enchanted ring back on Amande's finger, the jewel dimmed as if a switch had gone off.

"What.. how.." The astonishment on Amande's eyes was clear. This was either an incredible application of holographic trickery, or her aunt's ring really did turn into this warm and comforting _thing_.

At least she stopped crying. Smiling gently, Harry started with his talk on magic. Lady Amande listened on with rapt attention as her mind was blown. Her reaction was much the same as Captain Rysa's when she learned of Harry's power. The highborn woman felt awe, fear and uncertainty pass over as the revelations became more vivid. It would be days before she fully came to terms with the apparent violations of all the natural laws of the universe. Just seeing those odd grayish aliens Harry called house-elves performing much of the same feats when they cleaned her newly assigned room had finally convinced her of Harry's truth. That, and the black ugly mark burned on the side of her arm.

Magic was real, or at least some form of highly advanced science that Harry paraded as magic. Whatever the truth, it meant that Amande wasn't married to an unsophisticated loser. Already her mind turned in gears as she plotted to take advantage of Harry's unique talents.

That he even needed to marry her implied that he wasn't omnipotent. So that meant he was not a god, but rather someone with a few gifts. As Amande admired her glowing magical ring, she revamped her plans for the future. Her parents had raised her to become a trophy wife, only good enough for showing off at social events, raising the kids and perform whatever scraps of a job her husband would throw at her. Well, with the amazing capabilities of her new spouse, she wasn't about to let all this untapped potential stay idle.

Her day had been both agonizing and invigorating to herself. Her entire world had shattered in more ways than she could keep track of. But whatever changes she was going through, she reminded herself that she was an Antares. With that fact in mind, she resolved herself to take Harry's power and make it her own.

* * *

The new convoy finally began to leave the battlefield and accelerate towards Europa. While they would have reached the moon eventually under a powerless drift, it took several months to arrive that way, so every ship went ahead full speed. Even slowed down by the burdened towing warships, they made good progress towards the colony. The passenger liners that still carried their full complement of passengers sat in the center of the new formation. The _Eviscerator_, towing a relatively intact corvette, led the convoy from the front. The other warships, three destroyers, one frigate, and two heavily damaged corvettes all tagged along, some being towed while others travelling under their own power. The ships were quite formidable if they were all fully functional. As it was, only the _Eviscerator_ was fully prepped for combat. The _Lancelot_ might be capable of defending itself in a pinch, but with the dimwitted house-elves crewing most of the stations no one knew which button to press to fire her broadside.

Harry's marriage to a member of the House of Antares was met with mixed reactions from the crew. The now outnumbered pirate crew were the most vehement opponents of their new course of action. They loved to rape and plunder. They hated the authorities for so long that they could not imagine acting civilized to them in the same room. Being told to keep their dicks in their pants was also hard thing to swallow. The captain might be an odd little fellow, but his success so far was undisputed. He could have become the greatest pirate captain in human history if he continued with his current exploits. To give up a promising career in such a casual fashion was tantamount to betrayal.

Of course, not everyone agreed with the die-hard pirates.

Most of the recently liberated slaves along with a substantial portion of the old sciences crew breathed more easily now. They welcomed the change, adored it even. The prospect of regaining their legal status meant that they became normal citizens again. They could contact their loved ones, send them money, and enjoy lots of other services that were off-limits to pirates. While some argued that becoming a privateer was hardly an improvement, at least they would not linger in complete lawlessness.

For Claris, the changes meant that Harry was drifting further and further away from her influence. Selner already had his ear due to her shameless love-making, and now there was this prissy blond princess who kept complaining to the staff about the quality of her rations or the lack of a rose-scented bath. Harry didn't even appear to notice Amande's spoiled tantrums. Instead, he sociably drank tea with her on her while she was on her best behavior, and discussed about his magic and their future plans like they were business partners.

With most of his free time divided between those two women, Harry hardly retained any time for Claris. Even if she did manage to slip in while he was unengaged, there was distressingly little of interest that kept his attention. Piracy hardly aroused his interest anymore, and he never really learned to enjoy the routine of running a spaceship. If his apathy kept up, she'd become nothing more than a glorified house-elf.

She would _never_ become anything like those filthy aliens.

It was hard to admit it, but she was losing the battle for Harry's attention. Amande's interests matched closely with Selner's own devious objectives. The two snakes were already working together with some ventures. They were plotting to nudge Harry to take certain decisions that would benefit them most. In order to fight back against the two conniving bitches, Claris needed to gain more leverage. Short of throwing her body at him, she could think of one other way.

Ask for a promotion.

"You want me to appoint you as my chief of staff, you say?" Harry considered behind his desk. "Why now? And what's a chief of staff supposed to do anyway?"

"A chief of staff handles administrative duties and acts as a liaison between you and your command staff." She parroted from her memory. "Since your recent recruitment of Captain Rysa, I'm no longer strictly your second in command. If anything happened to you, command is supposed to devolve to her. Appointing me as your chief of staff will clear up the chain of command and strengthen my authority over all your military forces, and not just the _Eviscerator_."

"Can't we just continue on with business as usual? I don't really get all this military mumbo-jumbo. It makes little sense to apply such strict procedures on pirate ships."

"You might not care, but the Ioan Navy will insist on it. If you agree to become a privateer, then that means you will have to work together with their fleet elements. You still have full authority over the ranks of your subordinates, but you need to establish a clear hierarchy under your command in order to standardize procedures and satisfy the Ioan bureaucrats."

The wizard mulled over her words. "Hmmm.. that sounds a bit complicated. I'm a captain, Rysa's a captain, and you're a lieutenant. I can see that would be a bit confusing. I can let things stand as they are, but it feels weird having you pass commands to an officer superior to you in rank."

The boy thought over the messy situation. "I could demote Captain Rysa, but that will probably break her. I could promote you instead, but I don't think we can have three captains on the same ship."

"You're not planning on retaining more ships?"

"Nah, it's hard to keep control over multiple ships. I'm not ready to cast my net that far. My little guest stint with the _Lancelot_ proved that my crew can't control themselves when I'm gone. No, I'll be procuring a brand new ship when we reach Io, and manage from there."

This presented a problem, but not a big one. "Then, when you register your forces at Io, appoint Rysa as a junior grade captain, and yourself as a senior grade captain. She can take command of the ship while you take command over a one-ship fleet. It sounds confusing, and it would have been better for you to take up the rank of commodore, but the Ioans won't allow it unless you have more ships under your command. This is just a way to paper over their rigid regulations."

It sounded strange that Claris was so knowledgeable about these matters. Was she a former officer in their employ? "And what about you, Claris? What will your place be in my hierarchy?"

"I… would like a promotion to commander, to make me senior at least to all the other officers on your ship. And as your chief of staff, I can remain by your side and take care of all your military duties in your name."

"Granted. Put the changes in the record. You have the command ring, after all. You've more than earned your rewards."

"Thank you, captain." Then, feeling fortunate, Claris attempted to go for doubles. "There is.. also another request I'd like to make. The crew respects the magical gifts you bestow on them. It is seen as a mark of favor and trust."

"And I suppose you want to receive another magical trinket to show off, huh? That's a little more costly, especially since I hardly have any magical artifacts to spare."

"If it's too costly, I'll withdraw my request."

"No.. it's not that." The boy thought over some alternatives. "Well, I can do a lot of tricks, but they won't stick on a muggle. I'll think about it. Come back to me in a few days and I'll have something ready for you."

Claris left his stateroom, only mildly satisfied by her gains. As Harry's chief of staff, she had full control over staffing. Not that she already enjoyed the authority, but it would give her a measure of leverage over any minions Lady Amande decided to bring along. Being in control over personnel management entitled her to hand out promotions to those whom she favored. She could therefore promote the dedicated pirates to higher positions while leaving the more squeamish crew in the lower ranks. While this would not make that much of an impact, she needed every advantage she could get.

As long as Harry was determined to pursue peaceful matters, the newly promoted commander had little opportunity to shine. But when the fighting broke out, Harry would find his wife and concubine of little use. Claris just had to bide her time and gnash her teeth. Harry's true nature will triumph in the end.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	23. I: Foreign Correspondence - Repost

May 12, 2011  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Foreign Correspondence_

* * *

Europa was the sapphire on the Jovian crown. The icebound satellite was about as large as Earth's own moon, but its surface was completely composed of ice that ran a dozen kilometers deep. Beneath that hard layer lay a vast endless underground ocean that held more water than the oceans of the Earth. Europa's close proximity to the most massive planet in the solar system caused it to be subjected to immense tidal forces, cracking and squeezing the entire surface of the ice a thousand times harsher than the gentle tides on Earth. But this was also its source of life, generating awesome amounts of heat that were great enough to keep its oceans liquid despite a dearth of sunlight. The first living forms of extraterrestrial life had been discovered in its waters, although most of them were boring bacteria. Still, the discovery of primordial life was an indication of the moon's suitability as a human colony.

"So that's Europa, huh? Incredible." Harry commented as he watched the view from the observer's seat on the bridge.

They had spent the remaining two weeks lining up to Europa's orbit of Jupiter, and then as the whizzing moon passed by, they latched onto its gravity well. Its dense and crowded orbit was a sight to behold. Vast orbital colonies provided living space to hundreds of thousands of spacers. A great web of trade ships zipped back and forth between the space stations and other orbital facilities. The moon itself was covered by hovercities – huge artificial constructs carrying millions of inhabitants that never quite touched the moon's unstable ice surface.

His second-in-command provided an additional tidbit. "There's more underneath. There's a huge aquatic network of underwater colonies. That's arguably their greatest strength. It takes a planet-cracking weapon to cut through all that ice and water in order to even scorch those aquatic domes. The entire moon is a natural fortification."

That wasn't all. A tiered defense network of prowlers and weapon platforms incinerated any asteroid or enemies that entered their perimeter. Larger patrol fleets consisting of cruisers and destroyers provided a swift and hard-hitting fast response to larger threats. Even greater defense stations featuring numerous Class X weapon mounts anchored the defense. At the very center of the defense network lay Europa's premiere battlefleet. The awe-inspiring force was centered around five battleships, thirteen battlecruisers, seven carriers and a single siege dreadnought. Even a quarter of its number could ravage an entire lunar colony if left unopposed.

Despite their awesome potential, battlefleets were not often committed into battle. Like other strategic weapons, they were kept in reserve as threats. They were useful tools as leverage in the podium of international grandstanding, but the powerful weapons were too costly to risk them in a pitched battle. The current state of aggression that existed between the four Jovian powers were fought primarily in small-scale skirmishes and raids, where nimble frigates and destroyers exchanged blows. The huge but heavy capital ships were too sluggish to even bother sending them out. Keeping them on Europa's inner orbit provided the moon with a heavy mobile defense. Only when Europa was in a state of total war did its military leaders even consider using them in an offensive action.

Luckily, that battlefleet didn't bother to swat Harry's ships away.

When the _Eviscerator_ along with the prize ships first reached Europa's outer perimeter, an entire patrol fleet descended upon them. After all, it wasn't all too common that a registered pirate entered their doorsteps with his latest spoils in hand. It took a lot of talking, bribing, and bullshitting by the diplomats to clear them through, with the added condition that they were to lock down their weapons with specially designed seals. They wouldn't be able to break the explosive seals without blowing up the weapon in question.

As soon as they received the all-clear, the convoy split up. The _Eviscerator _and the _Lancelot_ docked at a corporate-owned commercial station along one of the publicly available repair yards. Their prize ships were passed on to towboats that hauled them to whoever bought them out of Harry's hands. The passenger liners went on ahead to dock at one of Europa's more upscale orbital colonies.

Harry turned to his pet accountant. "Hmmm.. how long until I get the latest figures on my accounts, Terry?"

The engrossed accountant didn't bother to look up from his work. "At least several hours, since there are like hundreds of different regulations that need to be satisfied from both the Ioan and Europan authorities."

He was already full at work in processing the incoming payments. One of the more unpleasant consequences of Harry's new Ioan nationality was that he had to pay taxes. In this instance, he had to deduct the Europan tax on the sale of the prize ships first, and then cover the tax on his income to the Ioan treasury. That put a dampener on everyone's mood, especially the pirates. At least the payout that he stood to receive from the Ioan state as part of his deal to break his pirate contract would not be taxed. All that was left was to wait until his pet accountant had run the numbers through.

"I guess what they say is true. Nothing is certain but death and taxes."

Only a few people chuckled from Harry's odd joke.

Everyone waited with baited breath for Terry to finish up his wizardry. Their shares would be at least as spectacular to what they received in their previous job, though some of the recent organizational changes diluted their shares significantly to what it could have been. There was at least double the amount of crew now to split the booty up. In addition to that, their conversion to privateer status prompted a change in remuneration terms. The current split for any earnings obtained from privateering reserved ten percent to the Ioan navy, eighty percent to the captain, five percent to the officers and final measly five percent for the majority of the crew.

As compensation, every subordinate now earned regular wages, but not everyone was satisfied with that little bone thrown in their way.

As for Harry, with all the money at his disposal, he could requisition a brand new ship. He wondered whether he could obtain one immediately. The wizard turned to Claris, who was engrossed in her own work with communicating their needs to the space station they were about to dock.

"Do you think we should buy a ship here, or wait until we reach Io?"

"Unless we're exposed to great risk during our return trip, I suggest we wait. We won't be receiving any preferential treatment from the Europan government, so we'll only have access to commercial-grade hardware. The junk they have for sale here on the open market won't last more than a minute against a proper warship."

This was still a pressing concern. Just because Io wiped their records clean of criminal notations didn't mean that every other nation accepted the whitewash so easily. The diplomats handled most of the fallout, but some restrictions made it through despite their vigorous efforts. Harry suspected they deliberately slackened, as most of the rules concerned matters such as being prohibited to carry any weapons outside of his ship and having only a half of his crew on leave at any time. The measures imposed on them insured that they could never pose a threat to the inhabitants of Eurocorp Station.

The boyish-looking man turned back to face the growing station on their view. He wanted to explore the arcology situated in the center of the commercial station. Only half an hour was left until they docked at their repair yard.

"What's up next as we finish docking? Is there anything that I have to do myself, or can I leave you to handle all the details?"

"I think there's something in your schedule." Tapping a control panel, Claris brought up his agenda. She grimaced a little as she read the first entry. "You are to accompany Lady Amande to the nearest Ioan consulate in order to finalize your marriage with her. You'll also have to go through other administrative procedures to induct you into the House of Antares. The trip and all the paperwork you have to do in the consulate will likely take up an entire standard day."

"Great, more pencil pushing." The wizard sighed as he looked glumly at the prospect of an entire day of filling in forms. "I thought the future would be cooler. It would have been better if I could just press a single button to take care all of the desk work."

"That requires an adaptive AI to gather and process data. They're blocked from accessing the crystallized records."

Harry let out another deep breath and began to toy with the control panels. "I'd say you guys are a bit extreme, but considering your recent history, I can't complain."

Hours after the ship docked at the repair yard to undergo another refit, the final tally of their earnings arrived. Besides the three-hundred-and-seventy-five million payout from the Ioan authorities, he also received an after-tax income of a hundred-and-seventeen million from the _Lancelot_, ninety-two from the sale of the missile destroyer, seventy-seven million from the damaged pulse destroyer, thirty-one million from the _Light of Pericles_, and three million from the wrecked corvettes they dragged along. In total, the payout from Io and the proceeds from the sale of their salvage amounted to the incredible figure of 578 million universal credits.

The whole crew went mad after they heard that figure, but they dimmed a little after they saw dilution take effect. A full crewman's share only amounted up to three hundred thousand credits, hardly better than the bounty they received from the Orion Constellations job. Selner and certain other higher-ranking subordinates received double that amount. The officers, including a confounded Captain Rysa, received a more extravagant share of seven million per person as there were only four of them to divide the officers' share. After various other deductions and expenditures on refit and resupply, Captain Harry ended up with a net bounty of four-hundred-and-sixty million credits.

Which was a lot.

* * *

It came to no surprise that the career pirates immediately took their credit chits and spent it all on the first brothels and bars they came across. Even with their newfangled legal citizenship, they had no inclination of putting the money in a retirement account or other financial instruments. They lived by the day, and spent their money in the same passionate dayfly manner.

Those among the crew who used to be captives and regained their legal status with joy were not so brazen with their credits. They contacted their relatives, explained their new situation, and experienced discomfort as they explained why they couldn't just quit their job and go home. Although Captain Harry had been quite generous with them so far, he didn't want anyone of them to escape and spread the word of his use of magic. Thus, with no way to quit, the crew members despondently sent their credits to their family or spent it on their own in wise investments.

For some of the crew, their return to civilization also provided an opportunity to gain some closure.

Professor Zhang officially tended his resignation to the Exploration Society. He was now just Dr. Zhang. People still called him a professor though, and he didn't bother to correct them.

Engineer Felicity briefly lowered her hardened pirate persona to send a tearful video recording to her parents.

As for Dr. Selner, she simply sat in front of the booth of one of Eurocorp's interlunar communication center. She had wrestled long and hard on the decision whether to let her husband know of her fortune, and her future. She eventually decided that she owed him an explanation. For all the despicable acts she had done since her capture, she deserved to suffer by their consequences. Therefore, with a heavy hand, she initiated the connection.

"Lily? Is that you?"

"It is, James, it's me."

"The Society told me your ship suffered a pirate raid! I.. how.."

She looked forlornly at the image of her husband, who sat many millions of kilometers away at some office in Ganymede. The distance had a noticeable effect on the lag time between their responses. "It's true. I've been.. captured by the pirates. The things I've witnessed were horrible. Many times I thought of killing myself. The sheer violence and anger these pirates possessed was terrifying. I had to perform many despicable acts myself in order to survive and ease my conscience. Worst of all, in order to keep my sanity, I had to.. forget you."

"But it's over now, right? Did a police force rescue you from the pirates? How else could you there, in a safe port and in contact with me?"

"I wasn't freed. The pirate captain.. Harry, he performed a raid on an Ioan diplomatic delegation while they were in transit to Europa along with some other pirate ships. Only he survived, and planned to sell all the passengers into slavery until he discovered a daughter of the House of Antares was on board. He threatened them unless Lady Amande would marry him, and the Ioans complied. It's the reason I'm able to contact you now, here in Europa."

"That's great!" James beamed over the visual. "Now that you're here, those ex-pirates can't compel you to stay with them. Just quit and come home to me, Lily. If you need to pay for your passage, I can easily transfer something over to tide you along your journey."

"I already told you that I can't leave, James. I have to atone for my sins and prevent Captain Harry from straying from his current path."

Shocked at his wife's refusal, he began to plead. "But Lily, you don't need to do anything like that! If they touched you in any way, or forced you to do things that you've only done to me, then I forgive you, fully and unconditionally. I love you, my sweet flower. I can't bear being away with you. Won't you come back home to your little papa?"

Despite James' incredibly sweet puppy eyes, Lilliane refused to be swayed by them. "No. I can't. You won't understand my reasons, and I don't expect you to. But please bear with me. This Captain Harry is more powerful than he seems. Capturing Lady Amande was just a small demonstration of what he is capable of. He needs someone to show him how to use that power responsibly. I'm the only one within the crew who cares. Only I can change his malicious tendencies, even if I have to love him."

"Say what?" His eyes widened at Selner's tearful confession. "Are you truly falling over some scruffy vagabond? Did he drug you or torture you in order to make you love him?"

"I _chose_ to be his concubine, James. He didn't force me to do anything. Instead, I came willingly to him. Only by being sincere to him am I able to earn his trust. I'm not faking it when I say that I love Harry."

"That two-timing bastard. Didn't you tell me that he's already married with some Ioan noble? Can't he just take his pleasure from her and leave you behind?"

"The marriage is political in nature. There's no passion between them. And even if Harry wished to come on to her, it's my job to ensure he doesn't."

James Selner growled as he heard more and more details of Selner's foolish sacrifices. She had always been a bit soft at heart. Whoever this Captain Harry was, he knew exactly how to exploit his wife. He couldn't stand seeing his brainwashed wife blurt out her many efforts in pleasing this lowlife scum who dared to claim her mind and body. From the months since Lily's disappearance, he had grieved for the loss of his wife. He expected her to be sent to some whorehouse and be manhandled into sex each agonizing day until the violence took its toll. To see Lily alive and well, but confessing in detail how many times she slobbered the pirate bastard's prick made his blood boil into steam.

He couldn't take it any longer. "I _forbid_ you to return to Captain Harry and let his lecherous paws run over your body. Stay where you are and I'll contact the authorities. They'll escort you back to their base if you're afraid that the pirates are keeping an eye on you. Just sit tight and this will all be over, okay?"

Instead of showing any signs of acceptance, Lily's eyes took on a hard sheen. "You _cannot_ forbid me to do anything, you dolt! I'm my own person, not your little pet! At least Harry has enough sense to respect my independence." After letting a few seconds pass, she sighed. "I know this is hard to hear, my dear, but I am really staying with Harry by my own free choice. There's so much at stake that I have to sacrifice everything else. My career, my ambitions, my dignity, and even.. my marriage. Nothing is too high a price for what I can achieve."

Her latest bombshell was a bit hard to swallow for her husband. "Marriage.. are you saying you want a divorce? You're actually divorcing me in order to become some dirtbag's love toy?"

He went absolutely berserk then. "I won't allow it, I won't allow it, I WON'T ALLOW IT! I don't care how far you've gone to the deep end, but I'm going to call the station's authorities right now and haul your stupid ass back to Ganymede where you belong! You're _mine_, Lily, all mine and I won't have anyone else slobbering over your tight-ass body. It doesn't matter whether this fucktard Harry is married to a princess or the fucking queen of the universe, I'll hunt him down and cut away his filthy dick for what it has done to you. I'm taking you back from his groping hands whether you like it or not, because you're obviously drugged to whatever chemicals he slipped in your food."

"If you don't like my choice, then don't. But don't come after me or Harry. If you do anything to us, he'll retaliate. I'll have you know that his temper is extremely foul. You'd do better to forget me and find someone else to spend your life with. I'm never coming back to you, James. It's over."

After parting those words, Selner wanted to put some force to her conviction. She raised her hand to show her wedding ring over the viewscreen. With calm detachment she wriggled the beautiful platinum and diamond ring from her finger, then showed it to James across the screen. After making sure he recognized the ring he bought for her, she mercilessly dropped the jewel to the recycling chute off to the side of her booth. The ring clattered through the nozzle and traveled onward to a central garbage disposal unit. Nothing would be left of the ring. The platinum would be melted down and the diamond would be deported into a pool of other crystals. It was impossible to get the ring back intact at that point.

James' heart broke in tune with the destruction of the ring.

"You'll hear from my lawyer. Lilliane Selner, out."

On the other side of the connection, James sat in stunned disbelief as he mentally went over the conversation. He knew Lily could be a little extreme when she was ridden with guilt, but this was ridiculous. The severe case of Stockholm Syndrome she seemed to be suffering under had pushed her over the deep end. The gentle and diligent wife he knew was gone, replaced by this so-called _concubine_ who bore almost no resemblance to the vibrant person he loved. To hear this shell of a person expunge on her love to Harry felt as if his heart was wrenched by a knife. To even go as far as to ask for a divorce signaled how badly she had been abused. This could not go on forever if he had anything to say about it. Lily had to be rescued from her madness.

After calming down his rage and thinking over his options, he began to pull up an info sheet on this 'Captain Harry'. Accessing Eurocorp Station's public and not-so-public records was a breeze, especially when he flashed his identity. After a few minutes, he retrieved all he needed to know about the little troll who enslaved his wife. Details on the ship he used to raid the _Helical Visage_ followed a minute later.

Taken his time delving into the records, he also browsed a few of the recently released news bulletins about Lady Amande's abrupt marriage to a 'covert Ioan operative who served with great risk among the criminal pirate elements.' The whole story smelled bullshit even before he made it through the second paragraph. Lily was right about one thing: Captain Harry was dangerous. That made his demise an even greater priority.

As the sub-director of the Exploration Society's branch on Ganymede, he possessed significant influence upon Jupiter's local power structure. No nation could afford to be on the Society's shit-list, so every official, even those outside Ganymede, tried to ingratiate themselves to him. Well, it was time to prove their commitment to him, and call in some favors among his closest friends.. and enemy. With an efficient hand he opened a digital conference with his chosen counterparts.

Three holo panels popped up over his desk, showing the faces of his three close allies. "Governor Peterson. Colonel Putin. Admiral Black. I need your help."

The third among them, a wild and grey-haired man well beyond his prime, eyed the participants with a savage but disdainful eye. "Eh? You called me in with your pansy friends for what, a tea party? I've got a pirate empire to run. Go ask one of my sons for help."

"I'm not asking for any of your sons, I'm asking for you directly." With a determined gaze he bore into Black's uncaring frown. "This concerns a pressing personal matter, but one that I'm willing to bring the full weight of the Exploration Society in play. Your assistance is greatly appreciated. You won't leave unrewarded."

"Well, if you put it that way, I'm sure the Society can give me some favors." The pirate boss winked, then howled at someone off the screen. "Bring me more wine and rub on me cock, you lazy lass! I got here a business deal underway!"

Trying hard to ignore the hypocrisy of asking help from a pirate, James nevertheless went on to explain his plight, and asked a heavy favor from all of them in order to liberate his wife from Captain Harry's clutches. If it meant appropriating the Society's entire bribery budget for the rest of the fiscal year, then so be it. Years of siphoning profits through some creative accounting had left him with a sizable cache of savings, which he also put into play. He would do anything to get back his precious Lily.

Admiral Black gave him the best opportunity he needed. "A lot of raids occurred recently between Io and Europa, probably in the same coordinated attack the _Eviscerator_ was involved in. A few of those raiding corvettes are still close enough to form a large raiding fleet. There's even a destroyer nearby which happened to have followed the _Eviscerator_ until they reached Europa's outer security perimeter. Lets see… ah, the _Mirrored Abyss_, a truly fine piece of art that is. Captain Gloria is more than capable of leading that fleet against any convoy the Ioans would send back out once their little jaunt in Europa is finished."

One of the Callistoans also pitched in, not willing to be upstaged by a thug.

"We don't have any forces near that area, nor can we pry any warships from our fleet without drawing a lot of attention." But Colonel Putin wasn't finished. "However… I do have a highly-trained covert operations battalion under my supervision, which I can deploy without informing any superiors.. provided I receive an overriding order from a civilian administrator. I'll need Governor Peterson's authorization to keep it totally under wraps."

"Well? Can you give the colonel what he needs, Peterson?" James asked with more than a little coercion behind his voice.

The bureaucrat quelled under the three's combined expectations. He nodded with a fearful shake. "O-Of course, but which unit are you going to send?"

"Psi-ops. They'll be able to perform the type of smash and grab that we need: hard, loud, and lethal. My boys and girls will leave no survivors behind except for James' wife."

With all their assets for this operation mapped out, they formed a battle plan that ensured Captain Harry's total defeat. Nothing was allowed to remain intact after Lily's recapture. James Selner intended to pay back the pirate and anyone even remotely associated with him with an iron fist. Just thinking about his wife in that bastard's bed made his gut churn like a maelstrom. His growing need for vengeance threatened to consume him entirely.

'_By the time my friends are done with Harry, he'll be nothing but a pile of ashes thrown into space.'_

* * *

The little trip to the Ioan consulate took up most of the day, mostly due to the fact that they had to transfer to another space station. Commuting between Eurocorp Station and Empire Station took a whopping four hours for a single transit. Harry had never been more out of his mind, sitting still on his cramped shuttle ferry while trying not to embarrass himself next to Lady Amande. The least the Ioans could have done was hire a private shuttle. Apparently that was 'not done', due to the curious fact that Europa and Io were sort of.. not-enemies.

The whole thing sounded complicated to him. Harry had heard many complicated things since his awakening in this era to know that this was just another mess those in power didn't bother to resolve. Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto all vied for the same resources. Despite having a backyard of what, millions or trillions of cubic kilometers of asteroids, most of them were not very defensible or valuable enough to extract. Instead, they focused on key resources that were unique to the solar system, those super-rare elements that weren't formed during the sun's birth and subsequent forming of its planets.

Exotic cosmic processes, such as a black hole eruption or a quasar implosion, usually formed these ultra-rare minerals far away from humanity's birthplace. As they ejected into the cold void of space, they traveled perhaps hundreds or thousands of light years before crossing past the Sol System, eventually getting caught by Jupiter's immense gravity well. That made Jupiter a prime resource frontier, especially as the discovery of more advanced and resilient resources became more public.

A state of quasi-war emerged as a result. Although neither power trusted each other, neither were willing to commit to a state of total war. It impacted their bottom line, and more importantly their corporations' bottom lines, and that was never good. Therefore, though relations were officially neutral, ships from all sides occasionally got preyed upon by marked or unmarked ships of the opposing side. Sometimes the Jovian powers even waged proxy wars against each other by using pirates or mercenaries as intermediaries.

All that political mess left the Ioans with a tenuous diplomatic presence on Io. That was the whole purpose of sending a delegation over to Europa in the first place – to show their sincerity and commitment in forging a more amiable relationship with each other. But until that diplomatic convention bore any fruit, Captain Harry, Lady Amande and the rest of the Ioans in Europa's territory faced stiff restrictions. By the time Harry signed all the necessary electronic forms and donated a piece of DNA and other identification materials, he returned to his ship with an irritated sulk.

But business was not yet finished for the day. Before Harry could retire in his comfy bed, a comm chime sounded from his door. It slid up to reveal Claris in person, who confidently stepped in the rune-covered quarters without even asking for permission.

"Sir. I hope I didn't disturb you too much, but I feel that I have a feeling that this project may.. relieve some of your stress."

Rather ticked off that he wouldn't be getting his precious sleep, and also more than a bit annoyed that Selner hadn't returned from whatever she was up to, Harry barged into Claris and snatched the pad from her hands. He looked over its contents.

"What's this? A ship?"

"Your _next_ ship." She corrected him, and gently reached around to change some settings, allowing Harry's quarters to project the feed from the pad in the middle of the room. That it also allowed her to press her body against him was a tiny plus. _'Small steps.' _She told herself, knowing that the direct approach wouldn't bring her the results she desired.

With an irreverent air, she seated herself on his bed, trying hard to ignore it was the same one that Selner slept in every night. "I've taken the liberty of using our new distinguished status to get in touch with an Ioan military contractor that constructs modular ship designs. We can customize the design in any way we like, and once we send our configuration they'll be able to assemble it in Io immediately. The whole construction will take a while because they have to import some of the parts, so I really suggest we do this now so we can transfer to our new ship once we arrive at Io."

The reasoning made sense. The sooner they got this over with, the faster the ship builders can start working on his new vessel. Ever since all those credits flowed into his accounts, he was feeling really uncomfortable walking around with that invisible price tag over his head. Anyone could come up with some excuse to slap some extra fees or taxes from his wealth. Sinking most of it into a new ship reduced his prominence and hopefully secured his wealth from any greedy hanger-ons.

"Alright Claris. I guess I can put off my sleep for an hour. Show me how this works." He ordered as he sat down on his bed besides the commander.

The boy leaned his head over her shoulder, enjoying the comfort after a boring and frustrating day. Claris inwardly smirked in accomplishment. She had chosen the right time and circumstance to come up to Harry with this issue.

"Well, the first choice we have to make is which ship class we should base our design upon. With our current budget, we can comfortably afford the lighter cruiser classes, but they are also rather expensive to maintain. If we don't have any income to cushion our expenses during dry periods, we might end up bankrupt in a year. If we choose to go for a destroyer class, we'll have to pay less upfront cost and also much less for crew, maintenance and resupply. Our ship will obviously be much weaker as a result."

"Hmmm.. how does a typical destroyer fare against a cruiser? And how much do they both cost?"

The woman quickly retrieved the relevant sheet of data. "The costs are roughly proportional to their combat contribution. A run-of-the-mill destroyer bearing medium armaments is three times as cheap as a single light cruiser, but it takes three destroyers to match evenly against a cruiser in the first place, so the market values reflect their overall combat effectiveness."

Harry thought for a moment. In the battle against the Ioan convoy, his ship barely matched up against the heavy hitters. A destroyer could dominate a frigate, and a cruiser could overpower a destroyer. This discrepancy was of vital importance in his consideration. His mission to Earth wasn't going to be a cakewalk, and he wanted a ship that would both be resilient and heavy-hitting in order to fend off any threats he otherwise wouldn't be able to avoid with concealing magic.

But their financial position didn't allow him much leeway if he chose to adopt a cruiser-sized hull. A general rule of thumb he learned from Claris was that a warship's operating cost would consist of five percent of its purchasing cost a year, which ran up quickly if the ship sustained any battle damage. Five percent out of a ship that cost about four hundred million credits could rapidly drain his personal funds. The modest stipend he received from the Ioan Navy wouldn't even begin to cover all those expenses.

Then again, it wasn't like he would let his ship be rung out to dry if his credits ever ran out. Lady Amande might be able to beg her family to provide him with some emergency relief, and in the worst case, he could simply steal the necessary funds and resources. Better to have a big ship fast rather than wait with a middling ship and regret the decision later.

"I'll go for a cruiser class then. Try to limit the maximum cost in a way that would leave us with enough credits to maintain the ship for the next three years. That should give us a comfortable margin."

"Alright." She inputted his choices in the pad and the changes reflected back to the projection. It now showed a selection of thirty grey, colorless hull designs that told Harry absolutely nothing. Claris continued on with her guidance. "Next we will need to choose the mission profile of our cruiser. Some templates are geared towards anti-capital ship combat. Others are purely niche-oriented, such as electronic warfare or mobile repair platforms. Since we are primarily oriented on raiding, I suggest we choose a role that has high acceleration and a large number of medium and light weapon mounts."

"I kind of like the _Eviscerator_'s versatility. Can't we scale up her capabilities on our new cruiser design?"

His chief of staff nodded in agreement. "The Evie's a great ship for her class. She's got enough arms to fend off corvettes, she has a hangar bay which lets her attack or defend from multiple positions, and she has a torpedo mount which can take care of larger classes. The only difference between the two is that the Evie is rather slow but heavily armored for her class, while our new cruiser would be the opposite in those regards. We can't boast the same amount of protection since that will push the ship into the heavy cruiser class. Quality plating is one of the most expensive components of a ship, and all that weight adds significantly to our fuel cost and maximum range."

"That's okay." He answered, having already considered the trade-offs separately. "I think I can strengthen the hull with my magical runes, perhaps not to the same level of protection as a thick plate of armor, but hopefully close enough to surprise our enemies. Increasing the speed of a ship through magic is much more complicated since I have to somehow enchant an entire engine. Any bumbling attempt at disrupting those delicate systems would probably blow up in our faces, so I'm not even going to bother."

"If you choose to go down that path, then I suggest armoring the ship with detachable EM-resistant double plating with a small hollow insulator in between. You'll be able to enchant the outer plating from the inside, allowing you to strengthen the armor, while simultaneously benefit from its nEMP shielding and keep the runes from facing out so that any enemies wouldn't be able to touch them."

Harry's eyes widened as the implications set in. Claris helpfully changed the settings on the projector so he could see a demonstration of the design. It.. it was brilliant. He beamed at her with a genuine smile and pulled her in a spontaneous hug. "You're a genius Claris!"

The commander smiled in return as she basked in his attention. This was how she planned to gain his favor. Not by smothering Harry with her tits, but by helping him grow stronger. After all, a man could easily tire from a whore. A valuable asset to his strength on the other hand would be much more durable.

"Thank you, Harry. Now, before we go on, we need to decide how much of a hybrid our cruiser is going to be. The Evie has a rather small hangar bay, but it took up much of her cargo space as a result, limiting the number of weapon placements she was able to carry. Since a cruiser weighs about six-to-ten times more than a frigate, we have a larger margin to play with. All cruisers have space for at least one standard passenger shuttle and one low-profile scout craft, but we can expand the hangar to take up to eighteen birds, though at the cost of seventy percent of its direct combat effectiveness."

"Show me how it affects the ship design."

The projector began to show different configurations of hybrid cruiser/carrier designs at Claris' direction. Harry carefully considered the pros and cons, aware that this was a critical decision. Having a lot of big guns would make the ship a powerhouse, but one prone to overheating. Having a large hangar bay significantly added to his versatility and range, but spreading his combat strength to those fragile strike craft made his forces rather vulnerable. An added disadvantage was that he would probably be unable to enchant his fighters as well as his cruiser. That proved to be the ultimate clincher.

"Let's go for a small hangar bay design with a capacity of six strike craft. A single fighter wing is enough to take care of threats the cruiser can't handle with its own capabilities."

"Alright.. that's a reasonable compromise. Our direct combat effectiveness will be reduced by only twenty percent." She set the change in the design program, which eventually limited the number of potential templates to only seven different designs.

"Now we will have to choose a weapon placement profile. We can have a broadside arrangement like the _Lancelot_, which is suited for attrition battles, or we can have a front-facing chaser arrangement like the enemy pulse destroyer we captured in our last battle, which is more capable of evasion and delivering high bursts of damage. Another option is to have a globular turret emplacement profile, which like the _Eviscerator_ will allow the ship to fire its weapons in all directions, making it less vulnerable to being swarmed. The obvious disadvantage to this is that we can't bear all of our weapons in a single direction, and that by using turrets instead of fixed weapon emplacements like the broadside or chaser arrangement will mean that we can mount less weapons on our ship."

This was also a critical decision. In the last battle, the chaser profile didn't perform very well against the _Lancelot_. Harry rather admired the broadside destroyer's awesome firepower in the form of her thundering railguns. He also liked her capability to absorb punishment, especially when she rotated herself along her axis to present her armored roof against any volley of incoming fire.

On the other hand, he rather liked the _Eviscerator_'s spread out turret design. He enjoyed the feel of being inside a moving fortress, whose turrets could lay waste to any intruder that dared to enter her range. It would be hard for any concerted attack run to cripple any critical portion of his cruiser's defense.

In the end, the fact that a broadside profile still featured a good number of point defense turrets along the entire body made the decision for him. It didn't make too much sense to spread your big guns out if they couldn't all bear on a single heavy opponent. He'd rather destroy any heavy threats one-by-one rather than whittling them down at once with just one or two turrets at a time.

Soon enough, the ship began to take shape. The _Quantum Revenant_-class cruiser template accommodated all of his desired features while staying within his budget. He made sure that both his broadsides featured varilaser cannons instead of the more efficient pulse lasers or railguns. While he would sacrifice a bit on his broadsides' penetrating power and firing rate, he was too much in love with the Evie's varilaser mount to care. He left all the point defense turrets as pulse lasers though, since flexibility in that area mattered less. He didn't want to become fighter bait.

Harry spent the next half hour tinkering with the layout and various other features. He played with the color of the interior, the furnishings of his quarters and more importantly adding a combined kitchen and living compartments for the house elves that could easily be concealed from any inspectors that would happen to snoop in his ship. He also made sure that a hollow tube would run throughout the entire length of the ship, planning to use this spare capacity for something spectacular later on when he regained his magic.

"So.. I guess that's it. Your new cruiser." Claris concluded, and patted Harry lightly on his back. "What are you going to call this beauty?"

The casual question surprised him. Harry had been so focused on the technical details that he had completely forgotten the symbolic value of his ship. But now that he thought about it, he didn't want to waste this opportunity. It would be a way to plant his flag in this new era, a way of heralding his presence to those who opposed him. A ship represented as much of his strength as his magic. He needed to treat it with the same care and reverence.

But how would he name his ship? Certainly not the _Eviscerator_. Captain Hargrave probably chose such a violent and shallow name in order to impress his peers. Harry had no need to show off his strength. He wanted something more.. meaningful. Something more profound. He didn't want to choose an empty abstract such as _Valiant _or _Courageous_ that seemed to be a timeless cliché in all the navies. The name of his ship should be his sigil, his identifier, his mark upon the universe. It should represent an important part of his soul.

His answer rolled off his tongue before he knew it. "Let's name it the _Immortal Marauder_."

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	24. I: Tranquil Voyage - Repost

May 15, 2011  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Tranquil Voyage_

* * *

She stormed through the hatch and entered the bridge in a sour mood. The lone pilot looked up briefly at her before resuming his checklist. "That bad, huh Star?"

"Captain Grey only informed me about the coming ambush on our target's convoy _after_ he had his dirty way with my body."

The pilot known as Ether only shrugged in response. "It doesn't matter much anyhow. We'll never be able to catch up to them before the battle begins. We're simply too far away and the Catapult's no use if we don't have their coordinates. The _Mirrored Abyss _is going to obliterate everything in her path anyway. That ship is practically a cruiser in all but size."

Star made a glum expression as she strapped her vacsuited form into the seat. "That's exactly why I sent a low-powered stealth signal out to the projected route of the convoy. With any luck, they will be able to pick the message up and decode it. As long as they are prepared for Captain Gloria's ambush, the _Eviscerator_ will stand a chance of making it out alive."

"You don't think the convoy will be able to win the battle?"

"Of course not. The pathetic PMC fleet that's escorting the convoy stand no chance against the _Mirrored Abyss_ and her swarm of corvettes. They're outnumbered and outgunned. No amount of training and discipline can counter such a weight. Their only advantage is that the _Abyss _weighs like an asteroid, so it should be easy to escape her clutches if they veer to a perpendicular direction."

"Somehow I don't see Captain Harry running from anything anytime soon."

"He'll just have to stomach it." Star sat herself on the co-pilot seat of her small and nimble courier ship. "Set a course for Io. Hopefully the young man will be able to get away from the ambush and reach Io safely for me to engage him."

This was her final chance to catch Captain Harry before he initiated his insane jump to Earth. The blunders and miscalculations she had made so far wasted a lot of resources and costed her benefactors more than a few sleepless nights. They all blamed the misfortune on her, as if those highborn snobs could have done it better themselves. It was easy to criticize a subordinate for failing in her duty when she was the only operative in the Jovian area.

As much as they tried to pin all the blame on her, they couldn't do much beyond useless grumbling. She was their only representative, and it would have been counter-productive if they fired her or revoked her privileges. They had truly been unprepared for Captain Harry's emergence and the change he threatened to bring with him. Though she wasn't privy to any of the reports on the analyses performed on the blue dust she had procured for her superiors, a few hushed whispers and references in her communiqués within the organization had revealed that the results were groundbreaking. This only reinforced her belief that they were at the cusp of history. The future of human prosperity depended on her success.

The female operative was not about to give up.

The _Galactic Skimmer_ left its berth from one of Trindebal Station's arms and accelerated away from the pirate stronghold. Despite Star's known association to the criminal underworld, she had no doubt that she could sneak through Io's borders. At least she could still use her remaining stash of credits productively.

* * *

Harry was bored. With most of the tasks already taken care of by others, Harry had the leisure to cut himself some slack. Lady Amande found herself in a similar position by virtue of being married to a former pirate. The taint of association made her an unwelcome presence in many official gatherings, not the least the diplomatic convention that went fully underway behind closed doors. The stigma she received from her peers didn't faze her very much beyond the first day. It was easy to put up her nose at the snobs for dismissing Harry as just another thug. Only herself among them knew the truth. Harry was a magician, a genuine transhuman. And she was the one who managed to marry him. Or was it the other way around? It didn't matter.

Since they both happened to have loads of spare time on their hands, Amande suggested they go out.

He looked rather skeptical. "I thought you didn't want to be seen in public with me."

"Oh, come on now Harry, we're married. I can't shake you off no matter how hard I try, so why bother?" Amande had already reconciled herself with the loss of her reputation. If that was the price of making Harry her ally, then so be it. "Besides, you're not the creep everyone makes you out to be. You wouldn't touch me as long as you have that Selner bitch licking your stick."

Harry shot up from behind his chair, grasped Amande's arm, and slammed her against his desk. "Don't call her a bitch!"

Pain flared from her body. Though Amande was momentarily frightened by Harry's outburst, her trained mind quickly offered the best response to this situation. The boy was the type that craved respect, but loathed insincerity. She had studied how that beautiful officer – a prostitute named Claris – tried to gain his respect, and she admitted the pirate officer's approach was improving.

But a noble could do better.

"I'm sorry Harry, it was wrong for me to insult your friend." The girl then tried to shift her head in order to glare at the offending captain. "But you have to understand my side of the story as well. It's rather demeaning of you to prance around openly with a concubine by your side while you're supposed to be faithful to me. So don't be a hypocrite."

He wanted to hit her hard for criticizing him. Perhaps even pull down her pants and teach her a lesson. Yet… her words held some merit. The boy couldn't blame his new wife for being a little ticked off that he was running over their marriage so brazenly. If she were sleeping with someone else every night, Harry would have felt the same.

With a little effort, Amande managed to pry her arm from Harry's loosening grip. As she straightened herself, she spoke with a calm but soothing tone that would just be enough to tone down the testosterone. "Let's not fool ourselves. It's too early for us to commit ourselves to each other. At this stage of our lives, we both want to lead our lives in our own way. All I ask is that you maintain some propriety in public."

The young man let out a frustrated breath. "Alright, you've made your point. But look, what the hell am I supposed to do with you if you're not buying into this marriage shit?"

"How about treating me as a friend?" She smiled a little impishly then. "Not everyone's your enemy. Just relax and let yourself go. It's not good to stress yourself out."

The girl didn't know what she was talking about. She hadn't suffered under a century of persecution like Harry. There was no rest for one like him so long he had anything of value, and there were more than enough greedy people in the universe who wanted a piece of him and his power. Only by accumulating more power could he stay ahead. In the struggle against the universe, there was no room for respite.

Still… was he even hunted at the moment? As far as he knew, he hadn't made any enemies. Perhaps he could live out a normal life, if only for a short while. It wouldn't last, but it would give him something to reminiscence.

"Alright I'll play along. For now."

They both stepped out hand-in-hand. While Lady Amande could barely relate to Harry, she nonetheless provided pleasant company in public. With guards and cameras recording their every move, the pair did their best to ignore the constant scrutiny and explore Europa's offerings. While he tried hard to shrug off the sense that he was being targeted, he just couldn't shake off his unease. At least he was able to stomach it without lashing out. Years and years of being a fugitive did that to him. He might even say it wouldn't be the same without that persistent feeling. They were practically family.

They visited the arcology together. It was Harry's first experience of Terran wildlife since his reawakening, and certainly his first time seeing trees and flowers far from Earth. Besides all the usual tourist attractions, they also took the time to visit a theater, stop along a few museums, shop for a new classy wardrobe and dine at the finest cuisines. Money was no object. The credits flowed out of his pockets faster than he preferred, but the time he spent simply having fun made the spending worth it. God knows how many hundreds of years he had been without a little off-time.

Eventually though, his holiday ran out.

* * *

The diplomatic convention lasted about three weeks before coming to a close. While the normally ignorant public had gotten wind of the true purpose of the Ioan mission, not everyone was privy to the exact details of the secretive process. The animosity between all four colonies had festered for more than a hundred solid years – a simple talk and shop approach wasn't going to wipe away all that built up animosity. Nevertheless, it seemed that the Europans weren't averse to hearing out the diplomats. A breakthrough arrived close to the end of the session.

The Europans broke with tradition and agreed to sign a non-aggression pact with the Ioans. This wasn't the real coup though. The ice-bound colonists had also agreed to encourage certain forms of cooperation in the area of trade, piracy suppression, and technology transfers with Io. Ambassador Arlian beamed with pride as he faced the cameras and announced all the deals alongside his Europan counterpart. His gamble had paid off. Although he had not received any assurances that the Europans planned to move closer towards a real alliance, the possibility remained open so long as they kept open their relations. That was definitely an improvement from the status quo.

The lengthy conclusion of the diplomatic convention also wound down the _Eviscerator_'s stay in the colony. Harry had enjoyed visiting all the sights a fully mature lunar colony provided together with his wife. Sometimes he felt like he was just another person, but then he turned around and noticed his ever-present security escort. It hardly bothered him now. He just pretended they were remnant Death Eaters and he'd remind himself that he could rend out their spines whenever he felt like it. He didn't, of course. He didn't want the footage to be circulating all over the net.

In any case, his reprieve had to come to an end. With the Ioan delegation about to leave, the Evie had to prepare for departure as well. The crew all grudgingly returned to the ship, some having wasted all their credits on sinful pleasures, while their more prudent comrades invested their fortune in less glamorous pursuits. They took up their assigned stations with grudging finality, knowing battle was never far away from a trouble-seeking captain like Harry.

As for the Ioans, now that their primary mission had been accomplished, the threat to the delegation was negated. There was no ground for any further subterfuge or trickery since the point of having them killed in the first place had disappeared. It also meant that the delegation weren't obligated to leave all at once. The pirate raid they suffered under when they traveled to Europa was quite a traumatic experience for the civilians. A large proportion of Ioans preferred to linger in Europa and mingle with the locals in order to delay their trip back to their home. More than a handful were reluctant to travel in the same convoy Harry was escorting. Ex-pirates were hard to trust, even if they had a supposed undercover back story. Diplomats smelled bullshit better than the average sheep.

The rest of the delegation who wanted to return quickly were boarding a single medium capacity passenger liner. These were the upper-level officials and businessmen who needed to report back to their superiors in person. Their relative high importance warranted a sizable escort. Something bigger than just a single mobile carrier.

The comm window opened on the bridge of the _Eviscerator_. Harry, Claris and the rest of the bridge crew met the withering gaze of the mercenary leader with obvious tension. The mercenary huffed at the sight.

"Captain, I don't care if your name tags contain Antares or Anus, to me you're just a bunch of low-lives who just got lucky. Protecting VIPs is a whole other thing than raiding convoys, so don't even _think_ you can contribute to our defense. Just stay out of the way while the professionals do the job. At least these fuckin' Ioans hired _real_ help this time, and not the shitheads who thought slapping few loose equipment would disguise their purpose. Anyway, just stay out of our way and mind your own business. Is that clear, pirate?"

"We're not pirates anymore." Harry replied, though he grit his teeth and held back his threats. This was one fight he couldn't win.

"Huh, unless my eyes are finally going blind, I ain't see nothing but a bunch of ruffians. I'm watching you fellas. Make one wrong move and I'll vaporize that tin can of a ship. I don't care if you've got that little princess onboard, cuz I'm hired to protect the diplomats, not her." The old commodore couldn't help but let out a grin then. "You should have worded your contract better. Brewersfield, out."

As the viewscreen winked out, Harry continued to glare out at the empty panorama. "If he didn't bring his entire personal fleet along, I would have taught him a lesson."

"But the point is that he _did _bring his fleet, something which you noticeably lack." Lady Amande admonished on the second observer's seat. "PMCs aren't your average run-of-the-mill mercenary outfits. They have partnerships with at least one military ship contractor and enjoy the backing of a lunar government. Their training and equipment is just as good as a navy, and their experience is not to be underestimated. Io regularly employs private military contractors to supplement their regular fleet activities. The only disadvantage they have is that they have to follow strict procedures in order to maintain the trust of their clients. Their reputation means everything to them, so they're not going to blast you out of the sky. But if you provoke them…"

As much as he wanted to dismiss it, Harry nevertheless got the hint. These weren't your regular boy scouts. With a flotilla of two medium carriers, four destroyers and eight corvettes, the Ioans didn't hold anything back in their personal budget. They could afford it after the smashing success of their venture. Brewersfield and Brothers would receive forty million credits for this single four-and-a-half-week trip, double if they faced heavy resistance. That was extremely good money for an escort job, but there were not many takers due to the obvious risk of such a high-profile convoy.

Sighing, Harry had better things to do than mull over a bunch of pseudo-military men for hire. "Alright people, back to work, prepare for launch."

* * *

The _Eviscerator_ moved out of the repair yard and slowly lined herself up to the rear of the convoy. Commodore Brewersfield didn't trust Harry enough to let him get within a hundred kilometers to the passenger liner. The mercenary escorts meanwhile spread themselves in a diamond pattern that covered all six directions. The destroyers and carriers stuck rather close to the VIP ship while the corvettes along with patrolling fighters took up the perimeter. A scattering of scouts were sent out beyond the convoy's effective stealth detection range in order to warn for any hidden threats. All in all, the PMC fleet had pretty much covered everything by themselves, leaving little room for the Evie to squeeze in between.

While Claris ran regular ship operations, Harry decided to visit the only other captain on the ship at the mess hall. He entered the eating hall to the surprise of some of the munching off-duty crew, and went straight towards the kitchen. As soon as he went through, he was assaulted by a crowd of eager house-elves.

"Master Harry is here!"

"Eat my pie, eat my pie!"

"I'm sorry Freddy, I've already eaten. Why don't you go to the bridge and serve them the slices instead?"

"Good idea master! I'll get on it right away!"

With a little pushing and pulling, he managed to weave through the crowd of cooks and reach the storage room where a despondent looking woman looked up from whatever she was reading. The officer defiantly stayed put, not even bothering to salute the newcomer.

"Eh? What're here for this time? Are you finally going to force yourself on me?" Rysa muttered as she crossed her arms.

"Would you knock off all your rape provocations?" Harry snapped back rather irritably. "You're a rather bit too old for my tastes."

Captain Rysa looked rather comely actually, but she couldn't compare to beauties such as Selner or Gloria. Having tasted such exquisite pleasures had dulled Harry's appetite for plainer women.

"Now I feel insulted. Perhaps I should have spent a few hundred thousand credits back on Europa to rejuvenate my looks." Captain Rysa sighed a little. "If you're not here to get your jollies off, then get to the point."

Harry didn't like her tone. "I think you're lacking a bit in respect."

She smirked. "What are you going to do about it then, 'captain'?"

Having almost neared his limit, Harry impulsively stepped forward and grasped Rysa's chin. He tilted it up roughly so that her eyes met his. He did not detect any trace of fear from the woman. She only scowled a little more. "You really don't know anything about women, do you, little boy?"

"I'm older than I look, old hag."

"Just because you can treat me like dirt doesn't mean you're a god. If you actually let your Neanderthal brain think for a moment you'll realize that all your macho bravado isn't accomplishing you much. Trust me, I'm a captain, and unlike you, I earned my way up, so I know the burden of command. Simply lashing out every time a subordinate steps out of line is not how you're supposed to run a tight ship."

The wizard wanted to slap this insolent bitch for her presumptive tone, but that just proved her right. He was tempted to slap her anyway to spite her. He didn't want to turn this incident into some kind of precedent where people could get away from trouble just by letting out a few snarky comments.

So instead, Harry withdrew from her and instead issued a command. "Kneel. Down with you."

As the boy waited expectantly, Rysa eventually complied and grumblingly lowered herself before him. Her sarcasm was still intact though. "Your obedient servant awaits your command."

He grasped her arm, turned the woman around and pulled her against his body. He roughly brought up his hands over her body and pressed himself against her. "Is this what you want, Rysa? Do you really want to build up my anger until I put you in your place?"

Rysa moaned a little from Harry's uncaring ministrations. "You don't know anything about commanding people. You're all stick and no carrot. You think you can just take your little stick out of your pants and whack women in submission with your limp organ. Heck, if any other captain did that, he'd be waking up to a mutiny."

"I don't get you at all. You prickle me with your insults but then tell me I'm wrong to punish you."

"Because you're going about it at the wrong way. You haven't earned our respect yet with your brainless posturing. The best you can hope for with your current approach is to instill a lot of fear. That's not how you're supposed to bring out the full talents of your underlings. You have to give them a sweetener for good behavior and preach an ideal to make their work have meaning. Something that they want to work for besides cash. All the millions of credits you've thrown in their way have done squat. They've become too inundated with large payouts to appreciate your sacrifices. You've got to offer them a more meaningful reward. Something they can actually touch or feel, as opposed to a random number on their personal credit account."

The story made sense. He should have thought of it himself. But that didn't mean he intended to loosen up his control over his minions. That was why he pulled on Rysa's dirty blond hair, allowing her to simper in pain as her scalp flared from the pressure.

"So what's your carrot, then?"

"Are you that dense?" Rysa taunted as she painfully smirked at the boy. "As I've said, you don't understand women at all." But as one of Harry's hands slipped underneath her clothes and rubbed her flesh, she grunted in surprise. "That's not the carrot I'm thinking of, but it will do in a pinch."

He let her go and dropped her to the ground. There wasn't any fun in it if she actually enjoyed her punishment. Maybe he should beat her up or something. He lifted his boot landed it on her stomach, pressing his weight against her. She grimaced a little, but held back her pain. The captain wasn't in any mood to play her games any longer.

"Enough playing around. Get to work with the house-elves on weaponizing their magic. Train them to carry bombs and other explosives and deliver their payload to every corner of the ship. Also start fabricating armored hardsuits for them. I don't want my house-elves to choke if a compartment loses air and their vacsuits get torn by shrapnel. You'll have permission to use the ship's fabricator module for this purpose. I also want you to start integrating the elves with the damage control teams. If they can be trained to obey the directions of the team, their repair might give us an edge if we're under heavy attack."

The woman didn't look very impressed by his orders. "You know the house-elves are dumb as rocks. They're likely to get into the crew's way before they can get anything done. _If_ they get anything done besides cleaning and cooking, that is."

"Just threaten to give them clothes and they'll fall in line."

"Clothes, captain?"

"Yes, clothes. Like a sock or something." With that, Harry left the female captain behind to sort out her mess. Her comments disturbed him. She made him feel inadequate, as if he was just an amateur playing among professionals. He couldn't help it that nobody ever took him seriously. The only way to force these ruffians to obey him was to threaten them with fear. Yes, as long as he wielded their fear, he wielded their talents. That was enough for him. Captain Rysa could go to hell for all he cared.

* * *

Captain Gloria looked on at the exercises these 'psi-ops' commandos performed. It was quickly evident to her and much of her crew that their plain and innocent appearance was just a sham. When she first received Admiral Black's little note on the little help the Ganymedians sent her by Catapult, she remained skeptical on how a bunch of twenty special forces soldiers could do any better than her own hardened boarding crew. When the Ganymedian hellions actually arrived and demonstrated their terrifying powers, she wanted to get rid of them as fast as possible. That they could glean off her thoughts from a simple stare was disconcerting enough. When they actually began their sparring matches at the gym, the entire ship _vibrated_ from the power of their clashes.

"Looks like transhumanism isn't a hoax." Her second-in-command commented, a feisty girl much like Gloria herself, as they watched through the transparent wall that separated the main gym area from the control room. "I never imagined that people could emulate the special effects we see on the entertainment vids."

The captain noted how a single female operative managed to sweep five of her peers away with a single flashy technique. The girl growled something savage, though the one-way-mirror muted her voice. Gloria wasn't even sure she wanted to hear what the psi commandos were saying to each other. It was like hearing a bunch of mice growl like bears. She just couldn't wrap her mind on how ferocious these innocent-looking humans behaved.

"These.. psi-ops make me sick. I can stomach a lot of things, even being raped by someone who looks like he's barely out of puberty, but mind-reading freaks like these are another thing altogether. The thought of these monsters romping around and soiling my ship disgusts me."

THUD!

The transparent wall banged hard as a body was thrown against it the instant she finished uttering her words. The female commando just winked at her on the other side of the divide despite the soundproofing of the control room.

"Looks like they don't like what you just said." Berkeley helpfully explained.

"It's their loss." Gloria stated calmly as she met the stare of that ferocious girl in the middle of the sparring ring. "They can extend their senses and read my mind all they want. I have nothing to hide from them. Pretending to treat them like anything else but the animals that they are would just be hypocritical of me. They're monsters and they know it. I can see it in the way they fight that they enjoy letting themselves loose like this. They relish their primal nature."

"That's not a praise one would expect to give to a transhuman. Perhaps humanity will one day exhibit powers much like these psi-ops in a few thousand years. You can't beat the inevitable."

"Don't get all fluffy on me with that transhumanism crap. Evolution goes both ways. There are far more rejects than genuine improvements. These fuckups are screwed up just enough that their side effects are a bit more abnormal than usual. They're just the first batch of prototypes before nature gets her shit together. We ain't seen the end of us humans yet."

The captain moved away from the view and left the room together with her aide. They walked through the plush grey colored corridors with quiet efficiency. Gloria shook her head again as she contemplated the mess they ended up in.

"I never wanted to become Black's little lapdog in this mission. I hate Harry for what he's done to me, but he's no pushover. I can barely keep all the corvette captains in line. They'll probably break at the first sign of a setback."

"They won't run." Her lieutenant stated confidently. "The _Mirrored Abyss_ is feared throughout the entire Outback. They know that if they run away from this battle, that they not only have to content with Black, but also you. Barring Admiral Black and Captain Grey's personal flagships, the Abbie is the most capable pirate vessel in the region."

"The annoying thing about fear is that there is always a greater terror that can upstage your original threat. Fear of me and my ship will only hold the sheep back so much until they break into a panic. I'm sure that however the coming battle will unfold, there will always be greater fears. Plans have a way of getting derailed like that. That's why I was never much in favor of this in the first place."

"It isn't like you to be so pessimistic, Gloria. You're probably just frustrated because you've been turned into Admiral Black's personal lapdog. Get over it girl. There's nothing you could have done to refuse him. Let it go."

The captain let out a cold breath as she reached the entrance to her quarters. "I suppose you're right. I just want to get this job over with as soon as possible so I can get back to squeezing the Jupiter Outback dry."

She approached her vanity desk and rummaged in one of the drawers while her lieutenant made herself comfortable by spreading herself out on the lavish bed. Gloria returned with a grin as she held a sheet of flexible high-tech material. The captain walked back and hunched over her smiling subordinate in order to wrap the sheet over the head. The material conformed itself to the lieutenant's head and came alive in a series of chameleonid contortions. The gadget expanded and contracted, changing facial contours and sprouting out its own hair. After thirty seconds, the process finally finished.

The smiling face of Lieutenant Berkeley had been replaced by the grinning visage of Captain Harry. Gloria dove in with her face and roughly mashed her lips against the living doll. She thrust her tongue inside Berkeley's mouth as they moaned to each other. The captain then ripped apart her partner's uniform shirt and fondled her subordinate's assets with painful squeezes. A few minutes after that they rubbed against each other's bodies. Gloria pulled down Berkeley's pant uniform and grasped the fleshy pole thrust out below. She gave the biosynthetic rod a ripping pull.

"Ah!"

The cries of pain only encouraged Gloria to go harder on her poor subordinate. She raked and squeezed her nails against the synthetic nerve-connected organ as she chuckled.

"The wonders of modern bioscience. Maybe I'll grow my own and use it on Harry's tight puckered ass when I finally capture him. It will be nice to see his young handsome face covered in tears and bruises."

"Ahh.. until then, you can practice on me, mistress."

"Don't mind if I do."

Gloria grasped the shaft and pulled with enough force to rip off an arm out of its socket. The toy detached itself from Berkeley's sensitive waist, causing the girl to scream from the sudden overload of the disconnected nerve areas. Ignoring the young woman's whimpers, Gloria carefully positioned the synthetic plug against her ower body and pressed it against her skin. The device's sensors fused with her nerve endings, allowing her to feel and experience anything the material would experience.

"Let's give those eavesdropping psi-ops a show." The horny captain announced, and then thrust her newly attached endowment in Berkeley's body at the same time as she slapped 'Harry's' face. "Scream for me, you naughty boy!"

The noises coming out from the captain's quarters could be heard by every psi-sensitive being aboard the _Mirrored Abyss_.

* * *

In a recently occupied officer's quarters, a young woman shy of seventeen sat down next to the coffee table. The hostess gestured her guests to take a seat as she poured the teacups with a mixture of spiced hot tea. As she set the carafe down, she addressed the others with an encouraging smile.

"Thank you accepting my invitation. Please be assured that you will not be monitored in any way in this room. I've disabled all direct recording devices, and I've activated latest security hardware to block off indirect transmissions." Amande tapped one of the jewel-like devices on the table.

The glassy obsidian surface blinked in a soft blue glow as it interfered with nearby electromagnetic radiation. Similar devices planted around the room disturbed the ventilation flow, prevented the walls from vibrating in tune with any sounds and blinded any other possible recording mechanisms. Nothing could penetrate their discussion except through magic, and Harry wasn't the sort to eavesdrop on anyone.

"I see that this is not a regular chatting session." Dr. Selner spoke up as she took a sip of the exotic brew. "Commander Claris isn't going to be happy when she finds out we're talking behind her back."

"There's no harm in letting her watch the recordings of the corridor outside this quarters to find out who attended this meetings." Professor Zhang replied with calm certainty. He held the cup of tea in his hands, but hadn't taken a sip so far. "She's bound to be suspect that we're conspiring against her even if we aren't actually planning anything of the sort."

The fourth member of the gathering looked rather out of place. "I can get why you'd invite Selner and Zhang for a talk, Lady Amande, but I don't see why you've bothered to summon for me." Terry shifted nervously in his seat, as if the expensive furnishings were too luxurious to seat a low-ranking crew member like him. "I'm just a number cruncher."

"Yes, but the difference is that you're his _only_ number cruncher. For all intents and purposes, you're our asset manager. That provides you with a certain amount of access and influence over the boy. You can choose how to dress up the information you're ordered to provide in any way you like. With the right words, you can even nudge his decisions in our favor."

"You mean to tell me I have to spin my reports? Don't you know how much trouble I can get in if the Solar Accounting Board ever gets wind of it? It'd be losing my certification immediately."

"Oh please," Amande waved her hands dismissively. "If the Board gives you any flak, I can just ask one of my relatives to lean on them. They know not to mess with the House of Antares. Anyway, you misunderstand me. The point is not to deceive our captain, but to.. slant certain details that might otherwise not be noticed. I have no intention of forcing you to lie to him. It won't work against him anyhow."

The accountant sat silently in his chair, pausing in his response as he used the warmth of his cup to distract his thoughts. He eventually made up his mind. "What is your intention then, Lady Amande?"

"I've gathered all of you here in order to form.. how do you say, a civilian council. We need a counterweight to Claris' current prominence. She's been rather devious with her new status as Harry's chief of staff. I've been snooping around the ship's systems and I've noticed that she's implementing a staggered promotion pattern that will soon lift her favorites in senior positions. Together with her pirate allies in her so-called command staff, she'll soon be able to counteract all our individual efforts."

"Ah, I see now. With _another _advisory council, Harry will be forced to divide his attention equally between the two, but that is only if he wishes to appear to be impartial." Zhang did not appear to buy the idea. "Yet we all know that Harry's not the sort to care about his reputation. He's likely going to refer to whichever council has the most relevance to the issue at hand."

"While I can't deny your assertion, it doesn't mean our efforts will be meaningless. By pooling our resources, aligning our efforts, and presenting a united front, we do not have to wait until Harry seeks our aid. We can involve him in the management of his estate and other civilian matters by bringing up the issues to him ourselves. For example, the Ioans will grant Harry a hundred-and-twenty-five million credits as they fulfill their original contract with him. What do you think he will spend all that money on?"

"Harry isn't very tied to Io at the moment, so he doesn't feel he has to strengthen his roots there." Selner supplied, drawing her opinions from her pillow talk with Harry. "Frankly, he doesn't have much experience with money, having been used to stealing anything he required from the closest available person. All he is obsessed about is gaining power, and if I know Claris, she'll suggest that he should spend that money on bigger guns or something like that." Her face crinkled in disgust. "We already have a new warship waiting for us at the end of this voyage."

The lady nodded and spread her arms to encompass the entire gathering. "So you see how an advisory council composed of trusted people can be of use to us and him. We will need to provide compelling arguments to Harry if we are to succeed in diverting his spending in less violent pursuits. If he is to have any chance of climbing up in Io's society, he is required to forge his own corporate empire. With his magical talents, he can produce any manner of unique commodities. As long as we can establish a monopoly on such valuables, we will be able to rapidly expand our business and take over more and more industries. My granduncle cannot afford to ignore us any longer if we grow large enough in spite of the stain of Harry's previous occupation."

"You sound just like Harry minus the killing. How is your sinister-sounding plan supposed to help me salvage Harry's mental health?" The doctor asked critically as she set her teacup down. "All you're doing is to divert his excesses towards the civilian society. I'm not sure whether that's a good idea or not."

"Look," Amande started in a sharp tone that emphasized her seriousness. "I know people like Harry. They think they're better than the average person, that they have a special destiny or some mad idea like that. Considering Harry's magical abilities, his behavior might very well be justified. Whatever the case, you can't fix a big ego except by hammering it into place, and I don't think anyone here is up to that. So just try to make the best of it. I know you only care of making Harry turn less violent, doctor, but you'll never be able to stamp his nature out completely. The best you can hope for is to redirect his rage."

"Perhaps you are right… but your plan comes at the price of unleashing Harry's implacable nature onto unsuspecting politicians and businessmen."

"I think you can hardly complain of my choice of victims. Most of these elites have done far worse than Harry."

"True."

"Then there's no problem then." Lady Amande skillfully dismissed Selner's lingering worries and turned back to the other two occupants. "Do any of you have similar objections?"

"No."

"Then let us begin in fleshing out our plan. We have to approach Harry in the right way so that it will seem that it will benefit him…"

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	25. I: Fight and Flight - Repost

May 20, 2011  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Fight and Flight_

* * *

There was no point in maintaining a single clock in the age of space travel. The twenty-four hour cycle that dictated life on Earth did not translate that well into space. For one, the hourly cycles were different on other planets, let alone the moons, which suffered from frequent eclipses. A handful of moons in fact did not even rotate along their own axis! Other moons whizzed around their orbiting planet as fast as bullets or as slow as turtles. The enormous variation of dark and light over time rendered a common standard almost nonsensical.

Yet the standard twenty-four hour day persisted throughout the entire inhabited solar system as the universal timer. There might be some local time standard for the locals to keep up with, but universal trade adhered to this common period because there wasn't anything better. Human life evolved on Earth for hundreds of thousands of years, and they traced their origin from ancestral races who spent eons adapting their life to the regular pattern of night and day. Shaking it off for some other scientifically motivated time interval never seemed to stick. Humans were extraordinary stubborn in that aspect. Some things never changed, even in space.

The Brewersfield scout had only detected the incoming attack fleet deep in the night when most of the regular daytime shift personnel were sound asleep. The timing could not have been a coincidence. When the scout hastily squawked back to the fleet about the sudden appearance of a swarm of warships from the cover of a suspiciously redirected asteroid, the entire convoy jerked itself awake. Loud, red alarms howled in Harry's ears, rudely waking him up from his pleasant sleep after a pleasurable romp with Dr. Selner. The naked woman shrugged off her sleep with great difficulty, still unused to the rigors of combat.

"..urg.. Harry.. what's wrong?"

A bit distracted by her deliciously naked chest, it took the excited boy a while to get his bearings in order. Fucking Selner's melons could wait. He ripped himself the bed and hurriedly dressed in his battle robes. Selner winced as the alarm droned in her mind, turning it into mush. A firm voice command from Harry had finally cut off the auditory assault. Harry quickly finished dressing up in the before initiating a comm connection.

"What's going on?"

His third-in-command answered his call. "A scout detected an incoming fleet that is dead set on intercepting our course, sir. It's bad, captain. Really bad. Commander Claris will be able to tell us more when she arrives on the bridge."

"See to it that you're ready to provide me with a report by the time we arrive, Zhang." Harry ordered before he cut the comm. After strapping in his revolver, he left his quarters and walked down the short distance to the bridge. Claris arrived at the same time, but she let Harry enter first as was his due. He nodded amiably to her in greeting.

"Captain, Commander." The professor greeted at their arrival, and automatically bequeathed the command chair for Claris. Her command ring glowed as it connected to the powerful functionality buried underneath its folds.

"Sitrep, please."

Despite Zhang's obvious nervousness, he presented the situation with the steady ease of practice. The main viewscreen came alive with the first projections of the enemy fleet.

"The mercenary scout had been patrolling the area to the lower starbo… port... eh.. southwest of our fleet orientation. Faint flickers ghosted on the sensors and the scout moved to investigate. It detected the first signs of the intercepting force when it detected a reflection. Closer scrutiny revealed multiple silhouettes following close behind. The pilot calculated their preliminary course projections, and it quickly became clear that the fleet intended to cut off our convoy. That was when the pilot sounded the alarm."

The commander studied the force projection closely. "There's only one destroyer in their company.. but it's awfully big. Control, enhance the resolution on the lead bogey element if you please."

The viewscreen shifted to show a close-up to an incredibly distant snapshot taken from the unstable sensors of a moving scout craft. Despite the blurriness, the ship was recognizable to almost every pirate on the bridge.

"By Mercury.. it's the _Mirrored Abyss_.. Captain Gloria's ship." Claris drew herself in a poise and changed the view to show the enemy destroyer's escorts. "Twenty-seven corvettes, and of different configurations." She let the fleet image run over time, noting the haphazard nature of their formation. "There's no discipline in their flight. They buzz around the _Abyss_ like electrons in a probability cloud. A pirate force, then. From the size of this fleet and Captain Gloria's presence, they are probably remnants of the raids on the Ioan diversionary convoys."

Shocked that their former pirate colleagues would attack them so soon, Harry asked, "Why would they assemble and raid our convoy? What are their goals?"

"I.. am not sure. It might be revenge for our defection, but that's kind of trivial. The liner doesn't hold much value, and our heavy escort makes it uneconomic to attack us. The only conceivable reason I can think of is that someone ordered a hit job on our convoy. Someone who's either very powerful or very wealthy is paying much to see us or the accompanying VIPs dead." She put her finger on her lip. "But.. Captain Gloria never ventures beyond the Outback, so it's rather strange to see her this far. She couldn't have arrived here so quickly without either having used the Gravitic Catapult or…"

"She followed us since our departure from Trindebal Station." Harry finished for Claris. It made some sense. "Captain Gloria probably followed me because she wanted to take revenge for her humiliation, yet she refrained from attacking us because we still had two intact ships left after our battle against the Ioan convoy. But that doesn't explain the mass of corvettes she managed to gather or why she chose to attack us now. Did Gloria hire all those corvette captains herself?"

His Second shook her head. "That's extremely unlikely. She doesn't have either the wealth or rep to keep those bunch of cutthroats in line. No.. it had to be someone else with enough clout to keep a large number of captains in line."

"Like who?"

"On the level of Admiral Black, or any number of CEOs with an axe to grind. It's difficult to narrow down the list. All we know is that someone high up wants us dead."

That didn't leave Harry much of an explanation. He growled a little as he stared at the formidable fleet that was coming down on them. Already the Brewersfield ships were rotating their formation, maintaining their course but changing their order so that their heaviest ships faced the enemy while leaving their vulnerable carriers safe at the rear. Their clockwork movements showed phenomenal coordination. He started to believe the Commodore was right in that the _Eviscerator_ would just mess up all their fleet maneuvers if she was placed near the middle of the formation.

"Alright, we're getting nowhere here. Let's focus on our next course of actions. What can we do?"

The commander's grim smile didn't contain much mirth. "Rather little, to be honest. It is up to Commodore Brewersfield to decide how to respond, but I can imagine his hands are tied. His fleet is outnumbered by at least two-to-one in tonnage, and the _Mirrored Abyss_ alone is practically as dangerous as a cruiser. She'll be able to take out all of Brewersfield's destroyers if he sticks to conventional tactics."

"What's so special about the _Mirrored Abyss_?" A new entrant asked from the hatch. "She's just an oversized destroyer, right? If she's such a nuisance, we can simply concentrate our destroyers and pound the vessel into scrap."

Everyone turned to see the vacsuited form of Lady Amande entering the bridge. She sat herself besides Harry with a supreme air of belonging. No one even had it in their mind to question her presence on the bridge.

As usual, it was Claris' turn to respond to ignorant inquiries. She was used to Harry's remarkable lack of knowledge to anything concerning space. It would clarify Harry's confusion as well.

"The _Mirrored Abyss_ is one of the most feared pirate ships for a reason, milady. Her hull was stolen from one of Callisto's finest shipwrights and she kept receiving upgrades. Her systems and armaments are all top-of-the-line. But the real danger lies in her bow section."

Claris manipulated the controls to show an archived outline of the _Abyss_. To Harry, the ship looked like a futuristic trireme with an exaggerated ramming wedge. A wedge whose surface gleamed in reflective, crystalline brilliance. "She carries a battering ram constructed out of fused Samsarite crystals. Such a high concentration of extrasolar material is worth a hundred million credits alone, but the hull and all the other improvements Gloria added over the years has tripled the worth of the ship. The _Abyss_ is one of the most well-equipped destroyer of all of humanity. I figure that even Earth's destroyers will have a hard time dealing with the _Abyss._"

The bridge crew adopted alternatives expressions of dismay and admiration. Claris fixed her stoic gaze on them all, impressing them on the seriousness of the threat. "That Captain Gloria had kept her ship in one piece after at least five years of use is enough evidence of her prowess. The ship is impenetrable from the front, but she also bears heavy caliber turrets on her sides, so don't even think of outflanking the _Abyss_."

"I.. see." Whilst Harry was ignorant in most space combat principals, he was no stranger to tactics. "It's a ship with no exploitable weaknesses. Attack from the front and you risk getting rammed. Attack from the sides and get pounded by a broadside of railgun turrets. Attack from the rear and you'll face double the amount of firepower."

"That is a very astute observation, sir." The pirate officer remarked with more than a fleeting amount of surprise. So the captain wasn't as clueless as he usually acted. "Only a cruiser or a squadron of destroyers can take on Captain Gloria, but with her escort of corvettes, there is no way to overwhelm the rammer."

"This is… a difficult situation, I see." Amande commented solemnly as she viewed the situation in her own shrewd perspective. "I see no point in offering combat. We should scatter the entire convoy."

Commander Claris concurred. She was no stranger of retreat as a pirate. If there wasn't any profit, there wasn't any need. "We need to look to our own survival. Scattering our formation will offer the largest amount of relative protection. Likely we will only be chased by their corvettes."

Despite the logic underpinning her suggestion, the thought of retreat did not sit well with the crew. Some had been with Harry from the start, and they were used to his smashing victories. But much of those successes were the result of planning, preparation, and initiative. Now the tables were turned. The initiative lay with Captain Gloria, and she had eagerly used the opportunity to plan her approach to come from an angle and velocity that made avoiding her offensive thrust an impossibility. The choice was either to fight or retreat. But running away did not sit well with Harry. His stomach roiled at the uneasy option.

To run away was to show weakness. To take the coward's route would negate all the effort he had put into in making himself appear as an object of fear. Fear was the foundation of his rule. If his crew perceived any weakness, they would surely exploit the vulnerability and start to reassert themselves. Such a course would be disastrous in the long term.

Yet… Harry was no stranger to flight. He had been hunted for almost all of his entire adult life. As much as his instincts told him to stand and defend his pride, he was not wholly impractical as to demand even a token defense. The weight of numbers on the enemy side left few viable options.

With a solemn tone he laid out his thoughts. "We'll retreat. Claris and Amande are right. We are outnumbered and outmaneuvered. While I have no doubt the PMC fleet will ferociously be able to fight back against our attackers, training and discipline can manage only so much against sheer numbers. It is hopeless to stay and fight when we do not gain any profit from the victory. Taking the _Mirrored Abyss_ as a prize seems to be a long shot as well. Those guns alone are too formidable."

A slight bit of tension evaporated after Harry's decision. They were pirates and civilians after all, not hide-bound soldiers who were inured to the navy's obsession of honor and duty. Retreat was naturally a sensitive topic in military circles. The point of a fighting force was to take calculated risks in order to protect those they served. To keep a lax or even reasonable attitude towards retreat was considered cowardly – and that was only the mildest term spacers had in reserve for those who broke and ran.

"While I'm glad that we are of the same mind, but what about Commodore Brewersfield?" Zhang asked with notable concern.

The captain turned to his Second, who slit her eyes as she ran the thought in her mind. "PMCs always boast about their rich military traditions. More importantly, Brewersfield has much to lose if he runs. I don't think he'll take it well if we break the news of our decision. It might be all the excuse that he needs to blow us up just in spite."

"He considers us treacherous." Lady Amande added instantly, having grasped Brewersfield's immensely challenging dilemma. "He has implied as such that pirates have no honor. The man will not be inclined to trust our word. He might even fear that we may defect, if only to save ourselves."

"But that would mean.." The professor's eyes widened in horror. "That we are already in danger. We're still in range of their weapons."

With the tenuous predicament the _Eviscerator_ found herself in, she could not run off on her own. Lady Amande argued strongly against initiating contact with him. As the convoy leader, overall command fell upon Brewersfield, and he had made it clear to Harry in several occasions that he did not hold a high opinion of the former pirates.

After at least twenty minutes of inactivity in which the enemy fleet crept ever-closer from the rear, Brewersfield finally dispatched his orders. Claris immediately let the recording play on the viewscreen. Brewersfield looked resplendent as usual in his crisp navy-esque vacsuit uniform. Though his face was set in stone, his manner betrayed his contempt at addressing the Evie.

His voice boomed condescendingly from the omnispeakers. "Captain Harry. Due to the present emergency, we have no choice but to offer combat to the incoming pirate fleet. My own forces will soon be arrayed in a battle formation of my choosing. And before you ask, do not bother to participate. Our commandnet is tuned to our hardware. To let you gain access to our net will likely compromise it. If you wish to prove yourself useful, you may hold onto your current relative position."

His eyes hardened even more as he spoke his next words. "Do not attempt to communicate with us or our client. In fact, do not send any transmissions at all in any direction you can think of. My forces will be monitoring your ship to insure your compliance. Brewersfield, out."

The underlying threat was clear. If Harry made any suspicious movements, Brewersfield would consider the Evie as an enemy combatant. To let this threat hang over his ship unnerved the helpless captain. All of his magic failed to provide easy solution to their ever-increasing problems. Worse was that Brewersfield had ordered the Evie to stay right where she stood at the rear of the convoy – which meant that she would be the first ship to face the oncoming enemy.

As Harry stared at the tactical overview, he brooded over his options. This wasn't about fighting back now. He could care less of the doomed Ioan passenger liner. Brewersfield could screw himself as well. The ambitious wizard only cared about one thing now – survival. Hemmed in by both the escort fleet and the incoming pirates, Harry had little room to maneuver. What could he do to escape this perilous situation?

"Oh just fuck it all."

* * *

The swarm of corvettes flitted towards their prey. As of yet, the escort's formation hadn't changed yet, but that didn't mean anything. Prudent fleet commanders often left changes in formation at the last possible moment in order to prevent their opponents from adapting countermeasures. Not that it bothered Captain Gloria much. The insignificant flies would die. Her ship alone could take care of all the destroyers, and her ramshackle collection of ill-behaved corvettes could be trusted away the rest. But that was all a sideshow. The only prey she had to contend with was the _Eviscerator_.

With their overwhelming numerical superiority, it was child's play to destroy the mobile carrier. But to ram the ship in half or bombard it with corvette fire would likely kill the person she was tasked to rescue from the ship, some bitch called Lilliane Selner. Gloria cared little for the doctor or her circumstance, but the pirate captain did not want to risk the ire of Admiral Black by botching up this mission. Even a woman of her renown had to bow down to higher powers. Thus she firmly relayed her instructions regarding the _Eviscerator _to her fellow pirate captains aboard the corvettes: touch the _Eviscerator_, and you die. She did not even want to risk them taking a shot at their engines or other subsystems. The rescue operation was too delicate to be entrusted by a bunch of ill-bred illiterates.

The boarding of the _Eviscerator_ was to be left up to the _Mirrored Abyss_.

Or rather, the psi-ops team the Callistoans had unhelpfully sent to her ship. In usual circumstances, Captain Gloria preferred to deploy her own crack boarding team. But if she passed on the responsibility to the Callistoans, any mishap in the doctor's retrieval could be blamed on them and not her, washing her hands from any potential fuckup that might result. Besides, the psi-ops team operated their own specialized boarding craft that was far superior to anything she had seen. Oh well. The little monsters could play all they want with their latest toys. As long as they hauled their creepy asses off her premises, she would be content.

"Rather strange that the mobile carrier is staying out so prominently in the front, don't you think?"

Lieutenant Berkeley shrugged from her tactical station, keeping an eye on the multitude of corvettes following in the _Mirrored Abyss_' wake. "They have no reason to suspect our motives.. but the placement is inconvenient. It's rather difficult to bombard the escort fleet if the _Eviscerator_ insists on blocking much of our firing angles."

"Do they know?" The captain furrowed her brows, contemplating the suggestion that their plan had somehow been leaked. It happened often enough. "They could have hardly predicted our angle of approach. The _Eviscerator_ is staying at the rear of the formation where they probably expected her to be relatively safe. That they haven't changed their formation yet despite the imminent engagement is either stupid or brilliant."

"Yet that will still not solve our current problems, ma'm. What do you intend to do if this situation persists?"

There was little choice. Gloria hoped that her next order would be simple enough for even the most drunken pirate captain to obey. "Split up our corvettes into four groups and organize them into pincer groups. Pick four of the most competent corvette captains – preferably with prior military experience – and assign them a bunch of corvettes to lead. I'll take care of their course projections."

As Berkeley and her team worked on the problem, Gloria called up the holographic control program to display a miniature hologram of the battlefield. She assigned four empty pincers to different arcs that she drew in space. The flanking approaches ensured that most of the attacking pincers would have a clear field of fire on the escort fleet without exposing the _Eviscerator_ to too much danger.

As the pincer formation assignments were filled in, the disorganized bunch of corvettes that flew around her ship began to flow into themselves. Four smaller swarms emerged from the chaos, all led by steady, experienced hands. The pincers started to follow her course projections, separating into four diverging arcs, leaving only the _Mirrored Abyss_ and a single flak corvette behind as cover against any adventurous fighters. It was a rather risky tactic, Gloria realized belatedly, but she thought it was unlikely that Commodore Brewersfield was tempted to storm in. Gloria could still order the pincers to collapse in on themselves, smashing any incoming thrust from all four flanks. She just had to wait and see how the PMC fleet would respond.

"Your move, Brewie."

* * *

Brewersfield did nothing as the pincers kept creeping into weapons range. The only change of note was that he had recalled most of his strike craft in order to refuel them before the start of the battle. It appeared that the Commodore intended to fight this battle out instead of doing the sensible and order the convoy to scatter.

"Damn arrogant fuck." Harry muttered as he saw the PMC fleet maintaining their diamond formation. "We're running out of time. We need to make our move. Is the launcher ready?"

"Aye aye, captain. The torpedo is ready to be ejected. Just say the word."

"Good."

The young captain waited for the right moment to launch the torpedo. If he attacked too early, the enemy could focus all their fire on the projectile and shoot it out of space before he could count to ten. If he attacked too late, then he risked getting pulled into the inevitable confrontation. The boy had no intention of sticking it out to fight to the death. He especially didn't want the _Mirrored Abyss _to slam straight into the Evie. Captain Gloria probably relished the chance to spit his ship on her vessel's prow.

The silence was finally shattered when the first attack commenced.

"The _Rantris _and three of the Brewerfield corvettes are firing their missile complements! They're all aimed at the third attack pincer!"

The pirates unleashed their own missiles in response. Four distinctive volleys of missiles traveled swiftly through the empty vacuum, all intent on the two vulnerable PMC carriers. The two opposing volleys of missiles ran quickly through a cloud of countermeasures put up by both sides. Flak sprayed many of the missiles into premature detonation before they even reached within visual range. Pulse lasers streamed forward from both sides' point defense turrets. The Brewersfield fighter wings quickly scrambled in the path of the missiles and added their own fire in the storm of counter-fire. The PMC fleet had managed to eliminate all the incoming missiles, though the targeted pirate formation was not so lucky. A few sturdy missiles from the _Rantris_ had made it all the way to the nose of the formation and scored a pair of solid hits on the lead corvette. The pincer lead swiveled out of formation, having jerked into a dangerous spin as her engines fired off erratically.

"Pincer three is falling into disarray!"

"Apparently, the lead corvette is the coordinator of their subformation." Claris observed with her faint familiarity with pirate group tactics. "Take out the front, and the pirates don't know who to follow or what to do. It seems their chain of command isn't very rigorous in that regard. We can cripple the other subformations by taking out their leads as well."

The captain cared very little though. "That's for Brewersfield to decide. We've got other stuff to worry about."

And he was right, sort of. The pirates had launched their second volley, one much heavier in weight and volume as they homed in from four different directions. Though none of them were veering off towards the _Eviscerator_, Claris was ready to order her vigilant fighter wing to intercept any incoming fire.

Yet the missile volley didn't change their course. Through some sort of miscalculation, the majority of Brewersfield's fighter wings had clung too much towards one direction in order to repel the first volley. The fighters jerked to spread themselves out intercept the missiles, but to no avail. The weight of fire was heavier, and despite the lumbering counter-fire, a handful of surviving missiles managed to scorch several overworked ships.

Explosions rippled across the hulls of Brewersfield's larger vessels. Subsystems were smashed apart or consumed by discharges of heat and radiation. Their resulting counter-fire rang weak as the missile bearing ships struggled to compensate their systems.

While the swift pincers could have approached into beam laser range, the subformations surprisingly kept their distance, preferring instead to dip in and out of missile range. The corvettes timed their volleys well, firing when they were just in effective full-impact range then quickly darting out when the missiles from the PMC fleet had to spent more of its precious burn fuel, leaving less energy to dodge the withering point defense grid. The distance also kept the numerous fighter wings at Brewersfield's disposal out of range. If the fighters started to focus on just one of the four pincers, the other three would surely as hell pounce on the unscreened destroyers and corvettes with savage glee.

Seeing that the current stalemate couldn't continue, Commodore Brewersfield finally made his own move. As one, all the ships, even those that had sustained damage, left their constant relative positioning and boosted downwards and to starboard, attacking the pincer opposite to the one that had been savaged by the initial missile volley.

This was a very shrewd tactical move, Harry quickly realized. Although his first instinct was to press on the advantage of the disarrayed subformation, it would have actually been better to move as far away from them as possible and attack a different target. By the time pincer three managed to get itself in order and accelerate on the heels of Brewersfield's fleet, the PMCs would be ready to meet them. The commodore wasn't so stupid after all by exploiting the inherent weaknesses of a split formation.

Unfortunately, this left Harry and his ship somewhat in limbo. It was quite obvious that they were of no help to Brewersfield, having been positioned so far away.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, according to our standing orders, we should continue to maintain a constant position relative to the liner. That means that we will have to follow the same course as the convoy." Claris projected a simulation of future maneuvers. The way all the pincers converged on Brewersfield was disconcerting, especially considering that one of those pincers was well placed to make a small detour to take out the _Eviscerator_. The intentions of the _Mirrored Abyss_ was also unknown.

"We'll become entangled in the ensuing melee if we persist. We must break out soon if you want to make a clean escape."

No other choice presented itself. Brewersfield seemed to be completely immersed in his own tactics, disregarding the _Eviscerator_ entirely and even leaving her out to dry. If that wasn't justification enough to abandon the defense, then nothing else sufficed. Harry made his choice.

"Fire the torpedo, then get the hell out!"

"Officer Stacy, fire the main launcher at these coordinates! Time the detonation at the three minute mark! Full burn!"

"Aye aye, ma'm!"

On Claris' direction, the heavy torpedo lunged forward from the Evie's launcher and began to accelerate at a constant burn towards the clump of pirates and escorts that were getting drawn into the dogfight. The ships exchanged lasers and projectiles of many different types. Fighter wings struggled to punch through the pirate corvettes' thick protective armor. Flak corvettes sprayed superheated flechettes with abandon, scorching precious few strike craft but delivering searing hot burns on the hulls of any other ship in their way, be it friend or foe.

Every other ship seemed to be focused on joining the melee. The three other pincers, one of which still in the throes of disarray, along with the the _Mirrored Abyss_, which previously seemed fixated on the _Eviscerator_, all came into aid of their embattled comrades. In all the chaos, the single torpedo initially received little attention.

Then, as sensors identified the true threat of the payload contained within, a few frantic flak corvettes ceased their current course and redirected onto an intercept course to the incoming torpedo. They swiveled around to aim their prodigious barrels at the projectile. Flak pumped out of their cavities, engulfing the space in front of them with a rapidly expanding cloud of shrapnel. The cloud grew ever larger but also less dense. Nevertheless, the torpedo plunged into the cloud as its sturdy surface began to rattle from the miniature impacts.

Luckily, the timer on the torpedo was rather short, and before it could suffer any more damage, the internal trigger detonated the electric package contained within its warhead.

A powerful cone of nEMP radiated from the crushed and fried interior of the torpedo. A wave of enhanced EM radiation burst from its impact point and traveled in an ever-widening net that began to engulf the mass of fighters, corvettes, and destroyers immersed in the melee. The fighters, being the smallest and least-protected of the combatants, all shorted out their systems. The enemy corvettes were about to press their advantage but found out that they could not as their radiation shielding prevented their targeting systems from locking on. Only the larger vessels came off relatively unscathed. With trained efficiency, the Brewersfield destroyers neatly adapted to the new situation and continued to pound on their disorientated enemy.

As the _Eviscerator_ boosted quickly out of the battlefield, no one seemed to take any notice. Brewersfield was probably too engrossed in the thick of battle, and the other pirate formations were too committed in their attack to divert their attention to the fleeing mobile carrier. Even the _Mirrored Abyss_ seemed to forget about Harry's ship as she continued to accelerate towards the larger battle.

_BOOM!_

A hard impact slammed everyone out of their seats. The impact wasn't enough to cause concussions or any other injuries thanks to the inertial safeties, but it caused quite a confusion among the entire crew.

"Report!" Claris bellowed harshly, hoping that her action would wake the rest of her subordinates.

Professor Zhang checked the integrity diagram for any damage. He quickly found the cause of the incident. "The rear upper deck has been breached. The hull seemed to have been bored through by something." He quickly activated the sensors in that compartment, but found out that they were blocked. "I can't get a visual on that section, nor any of the adjacent ones. They're not getting any power!"

Their instruments seemed to flicker a little. "Something's _siphoning_ away our energy!"

"Damage control teams are having difficulty sealing off the affected compartment!"

Claris pressed the comm and locked her gaze to Cyrus. "Deadman, fly your wing towards our upper deck and report on the damage we sustained."

"Acknowledged. E-Wing is on its way."

The four fighters smoothly arced around the _Eviscerator_. The wing commander was rather disturbed that none of their sensors had managed to detect any attack. Was the Evie hit with some kind of energy weapon that left no visible trace behind? How else could the ship be damaged far away from any other combatant. As their fighters came into view of the roof of the mobile carrier, they were finally able to see what had hit the ship.

"It's a boarding pod! A stealthed boarding pod!"

Deadman hastily transmitted his visuals to the bridge of the Evie, and without receiving any further orders he lunged his interceptor forward as he released the locks on his pulse cannons. The pod was glowing with some faint bluish energy that seemed to be too ominous to let itself continue. Even as his wing members flooded his comm with astonishment, he focused all his attention on the pulsing parasite that had embedded itself onto the _Eviscerator_'s hull. The very malice pouring out of its darkened shell pulsed at his fraying mind. There was something _wrong_ with that glow of blue. He had to destroy the pod before it could do whatever it was meant to do. His shots would likely hit the _Eviscerator_ itself, but that was a small price to pay.

Disregarding Claris' frantic orders to pull back, Deadman pulled the trigger that fired his pulse cannons. Streams of particle pulses shot from his fighter and slammed into the hull of the mobile carrier, scorching it and chinking off more hull plating. Despite being hit by several of the pulses, the boarding pod remained stubbornly unscathed. If anything else, the blue glow seemed to _absorb_ the deadly pulses and add the energy to its infernal glow–

'_FUCK!'_

–before discharging in a violent eruption not unlike an EMP explosion. The energy rippled over the _Eviscerator_'s surface, blanking out all exposed systems. The flood of energy also fired into space, catching the wing commander and the rest of his wing members with alien sensations. All four fighters shut down virtually in unison from the backlash.

Meanwhile, inside the breached compartment, the frontal hatch of the pod finally opened up. A flood of psi-ops commandos poured out of the entrance and boarded the ship. Their plated, glowing armor clanked with crystalline resonance against the metal surface of the compartment. Their psionic visors glowed in ethereal blue as they enhanced their senses across the entire ship. The assault squad turned to a jammed hatch in the compartment as one of the Evie's damage control team managed to blast it apart.

The surprised spacers came face to face with the intruders. "Boarders! Shoot them all down!"

But before the four-person team could even drop their tools, a single commando lifted up a glowing armored palm towards the panicking crew members.

A few seconds later, there was no trace left of the team except for a few splotches of blood, and a fine mist of vaporized bodies.

The psi-ops had come to dominate.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	26. I: Reflection of the Past - Repost

May 26, 2011  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Reflection of the Past_

* * *

Captain Gloria oozed in her seat as she observed her ship's steady progress. The jumbled melee that unfolded chaotically before her would soon be graced by her presence. The mercenary fleet that was the focus of her attack was being engulfed by the onslaught of vicious pirate corvettes. They flooded the convoy from three different directions after the fourth group had been singled out and caught unawares.

The tight confusion caused all semblance of order to evaporate, and the battlefield degenerated in an 'every ship for itself' kind of situation. The original pincer subformations that were supposed to guide the pirates had completely disappeared, once again proving the futility in trying to organize impulsive pirate captains. The Brewersfield Private Military Contractor ships were in no better shape either. Their initial formation had collapsed like a house of cards under the weight of the pirate attack. The destroyers, carriers and corvettes were forced to take individual evasive action to survive against the mass of gunships.

The fighter wings that were caught up in the _Eviscerator_'s nEMP pulse were knocked offline for several minutes. Their predictable ballistic course allowed a handful of opportunistic pirates to easily shoot down the unpowered craft. Sadly, not many of the fighters were affected by the EMP attack, which meant that Gloria's corvettes were starting come under siege. If this situation was allowed to continue then the pirate force stood to lose sixty percent of their number in the next ten minutes. Such a heavy loss would damage Gloria's standing with Admiral Black and the rest of the pirate community. This was enough for her to order the Abbie into the fight, even if it meant leaving their original target behind.

'_Oh well, those psi-ops geeks can have their little paws all over Captain Harry and the rest of the _Eviscerator _for all I care.'_

"Captain, which ship do you wish to ram first?" Berkeley, her executive officer and tactical officer asked from her station as she kept an eye on the wider battle.

"Hmmm.." Gloria took the time to analyze each of the four destroyers, assessing their importance to the enemy side and the odds that her ship could ram the targets successfully. "Their flagship is exposed."

The _Silent Reproach_'s pulse cannon broadsides pounded any harassing corvette that came within her sights. A chaser destroyer - the beam laser bearing _Steadfast Companion -_ covered the flagship's flanks by attacking any attack waves that came from the vertical plane. The two destroyers along with a handful of covering fighter wings represented a formidable bastion within the larger chaos of the battle.

Her navigator studied the distance with a quick and experienced eye. "If we approach the _Reproach_ from the bottom of the galactic plane, we can get a clear path to her stern. We can gain sufficient speed by following a moderately parabolic plot."

"Follow through with that. Stanson, ready our railgun turrets. I want you to orient them so that the turrets from both sides will be able to bear on the _Steadfast Companion_ as she tries to slow us down." Gloria turned to her tactical officer. "Try to get a few corvettes to escort us during our attack run. Offer them a credit transfer or something if you need to entice their greedy minds."

"Do you have any preference in particular, ma'm?"

"Get a flak corvette at the very least. We need to keep those annoying fighter wings off our backs."

As the _Mirrored Abyss_ made her relentless advance into the thick of the battle, the embattled destroyers of the Brewersfield fleet worked hard to survive the continuous assaults flung in their way.

The mercenary-employed _Rantris_ abandoned the use of her medium-range Streaker missiles in favor of launching the short-range Miasma cluster rockets. The small, stubby projectiles loaded faster in the missile tubes, and their clustered detonations were well-suited to the close-range knife-fights that the pirate corvettes preferred.

The _Silent Reproach_ meanwhile began to suffer heavily from the constant bombardment by the strafing corvettes. Despite her fearsome Class VIII broadsides, she had a hard time bearing her weapons on the fast-moving gunships that circled her in every direction. A few allied fighter wings tried to strafe the strafers, made little progress against the thick corvette plating. In an effort to break the deadlock, the destroyer let her side thrusters flare, imparting a hefty bit of rotational momentum upon her stressing frame. The pinpoint fire harassing her weapons and subsystems ceased to land precisely on their mark, instead dispersing widely against the warship's armored sections. Though the wild and unpredictable spin had made the _Silent Reproach_ a difficult egg to crack, her weapons were unable to bear on the enemy any longer. In the fleeting milliseconds when one of her broadsides would have a clear shot at a buzzing corvette, the ship tried to fire a volley, but missed more often than not due to the chaotic nature of her spin.

As for her companion ship, the _Steadfast Companion _finally began to bore down on the pirate gunships that were harassing the _Reproach_. The _Companion_ swiveled her half-turreted laser mounts with invisible death in the form of high-energy X-rays. The flimsy metal plating buckled and warped under the intense heat and radiation, providing only a limited amount of shielding to the pirate crew within to the gene-shattering energy that fizzled their very bodies. When the chaser's beam laser mounts threatened to overheat, the focusing crystals and power settings were set down to a lower notch in order to spray out short thermal lances that scorched or melted entire sections at a time.

"We're entering combat range now, ma'm."

"Have you managed to rope in a few escorts yet, Lieutenant Berkeley?"

The young ginger-haired woman nodded contently. "I've managed to peel away the _Lucky Charm_ and the _Bortelli_ from their comrades. They should be alongside of us in a moment."

The escort certainly helped ease the strain off the _Mirrored Abyss_' limited point defense. The harassing bomber wings repeatedly tried to line themselves up for a close-range penetration run, but the _Lucky Charm_ forced them to back off into medium range with her vicious bursts of flechettes. The _Bortelli_ held off attackers approaching from the other flank with her fast-firing pulse cannons. This left the _Abyss _to focus her heavy turrets on the distant _Steadfast Companion_, who appeared to be hesitating in her approach.

But as it became more and more clear that Captain Gloria intended to ram the _Silent Reproach_, her opponents responded in kind. The _Reproach_ knew it was futile to run away from a relative standstill, so instead the flagship bore her broadsides down at the _Abyss_ and began to spin along her length, causing both her pulse broadsides to fire straight at the incoming rammer with carefully timed volleys. The _Mirrored Abyss_ declined to answer the fire, focusing her turrets instead the other threat. The _Companion _did her best to endure the constant railgun projectiles flung in her way, and spat back with devastating thermal lances that began to sear at the _Abyss'_ weapon mounts.

"Our forward hull integrity is holding, but our flanks aren't doing so well!" Stanson reported as he ground his teeth through the rumbling impacts. "They're trying to melt our turret swivels. We're managing to absorb the heat for now but we're going to run out of foam coolant in less than two minutes."

"Keep slugging the _Companion_. The more she stays open like this, the easier it will be to take her out once we've taken care of the _Reproach_."

As the rammer neared her chosen target, Brewersfield's flagship began to spin even harder while at the same time started to engage her main thrusters. The forward movement made it harder to line up the _Abyss_ along the _Reproach_'s axis, but it also made her broadside fire more inaccurate. The _Reproach_ eventually abandoned all pretense of offense as her constant pulse volleys had failed to make a single dent against the impervious surface of the _Mirrored Abyss_' Samsarite-covered ramming wedge.

"Thirty seconds to impact!"

"The _Silent Reproach_ is engaging almost all of her rotational thrusters! She's flailing like mad!"

This was one of Gloria's few creeping fears. A ship that spun not only along her length but also vertically or diagonally along her center of gravity made for a chaotic target to time her ram correctly. It was an act of supreme desperation, and already a few escape pods began to flare out of the gyrating flagship.

'_The Commodore is saving what non-essential personnel he can spare most likely.'_

It didn't deter Captain Gloria from abandoning her approach. The ship had to be annihilated in order to demoralize the enemy and prevent it from being reactivated later on.

"Fifteen seconds to impact!"

"Ship, initiate Cocoons!"

Everyone who were still on their feet hurried to the nearest crash seats in their compartments. As the crew of the _Mirrored Abyss_ were safely strapped in by the automatic restraints, a dome of form-fitting shock absorbers squashed them against their chairs. A shell of white hardened protective plating lowered over their bodies and pressed a foam of shock-absorbing material in between. The gravitic and magnetic dampeners embedded within the seats insured that anyone inside could withstand the brutal forces of a rending collision.

The lower protruding tip of the ramming wedge struck the hull of the spinning target. The piercing spear dug in effortlessly through the hardened hull, parting the metal like a fragile crust. The narrow lance quickly widened into a broadened wedge. The immense momentum that propelled the _Mirrored Abyss_ torward continued to part the initial crack into a devastating tear that pulverized a dozen different compartments in a single second and breached countless other rooms to the cold vacuum of space. The heavy rammer continued to plunge into the helpless side of the _Silent Reproach_, splitting her apart without even a fleeting sign of mercy.

The spine of the once-proud destroyer finally snapped. The remnant of her rotational momentum forced the two separated pieces to fling away in different directions. The volatile stern with her over-stressed reactor seemed to have levered the rear chunk away, shooting off helplessly at a random direction. The bow with the bridge and most of its weapon mounts turned inward and crashed along the shovel-like surface of the portside ram. The Samsarite crystal endured the crushing impact of the rolling piece with incredible strength. Though the seamless surface started to crack and release thousands of deadly fragments, its integrity still kept itself intact even as it tried to force away the separated hull piece. The curving surface of the wedge forced the bow section to redirect its path and fly away from the rest of the _Abyss_' hull.

When the collision finally finished, the crew was ready to emerge from their protection. The cocoons retracted themselves, letting the pirates to retake control.

"The _Silent Reproach _has been completely breached apart into two separate fragments." Berkeley analyzed. "Do you want to engage our turrets onto them to finish them off, ma'm?"

"Leave the useless pieces be. We have other threats to contend ourselves with." And with a baleful eye she turned towards the _Steadfast Companion_, which backed off from their aggressive approach at the sight of Brewersfield's former flagship. Instead, the mercenaries took potshots at her engines from a healthy distance, hoping to neutralize the _Mirrored Abyss'_ greatest offensive option.

Pity that Gloria had seen it all before. "Bear all our turrets on the _Companion_. If she wishes to take our engines, then we'll oblige them with all our counter-fire!"

The _Mirrored Abyss_ eagerly answered the call of her mistress.

* * *

"Repel the fuckin' boarders!" Dirk shouted hoarsely across the entire hangar deck as he went for the nearest weapons locker. "Grab whateva' you can, cuz it sounds like them bastards are running roughshod ova' our ship!"

The first sign of danger came when a loud impact jarred everyone from their feet. When a strange energy pulse rang throughout the entire ship and shorted out a lot of equipment, the true threat slowly became clear. While the ship-wide comms stayed down, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had been boarded. And if Dirk needed any confirmation, the bleeding house-elf that suddenly apparated in the middle of the deck to warn them of the attackers had won over the skeptics.

"Don't be fooled by them!" The wounded alien shouted as a deck hand hurriedly tried to staunch his wounds. "They play tricks with their minds, but beware their palms! Palms… palms! Small palms, soft palms, thin palms, but deadly palms ayeeee! Small, small, but deadly and crazy!"

"Can anyone shut that darn elf up?" Dirk muttered as he strapped himself in an exoskeleton meant to lift heavy equipment.

The worker suit wasn't as protective as a proper suit of boarding armor, but it would do the job. He retrieved a heavy pulse rifle from the rack and attached its power cord into his armor. All checks lighted green. The deck swabber turned around to see a handful of grease monkeys already suited up and armed.

"Alright men, you're with me. Let's give these asses something to regret. Move out!"

The troop of deck workers streamed out of the hangar compartment and went into the main corridor that led up the stairway to the compromised upper decks. Though half of them appeared as they were holding their very first rifles, the weapons were easy to figure out.

"Did you guys disable the safeties?" Dirk asked to make sure.

"Uhh.. what?"

"Fucking idiots." Dirk quickly stepped up to the clueless youth and clanked his armored fist against the boy's helmet. He snatched up the kid's rifle and prominently displayed the safety panel. "Look at this thing here! You press your security code on it and then select this option right here, ya see? As long as your armor is in contact with the weapon it won't turn off. Any longer though, and you have to reenter your code unless you want it to blow up in your face."

The warning suddenly made a couple of workers ill, but Dirk would have none of that and roughly used the butt of his rifle to send the crewmen along their way.

With his men back in line, Dirk went to climb up the sliding stair that led them to the next deck when suddenly a violent explosion of color blasted in their way. The sheer force behind the shock wave pulverized the lead deck hand, armor and all, and slammed everyone else against the bulkhead.

"Lanker's gone! Shit darned Mercury I'm not gonna die like this! Let the security goons handle them!"

Dirk managed to shake off his daze and quickly rounded up the men. "We ain't got enough boarders to stop these motherfuckers before they reach the reactor! Get back in position! Everyone, grenades!"

They withdrew their cylinders and readied them for a throw. A few didn't know how to prime their grenades quickly mimicked the others.

"Throw 'em up!"

With varying accuracy, the grenades all flew up the next deck, only to be blasted back in their midst as a brief blast of that infernal energy swatted them back in their faces from the upper deck.

"Fire in the hole! Hunker down your suits!" Dirk yelled as he grabbed the young kid by the shoulders and threw him down under him while he activated his armor's hunker mode.

Instantly all his limbs turned rigid as the flexible joints hardened into solid protection. At the same time, his sensors blocked out to protect his senses and the soft padding underneath his armor bloated to form into shock absorbers. Every loose component in his armor locked down into their safest and most rigid setting and all electronic components built into the suit powered down to minimize adverse effects. In two short seconds, his entire armor turned from a mobile walking machine of death into a virtual man-shaped fortress.

Just in time for the grenades to set off.

Half of the men at the bottom of the stairs had succumbed to the carnage of their own explosives. Dirk survived, but had to leave behind the poor promising sap in his grip. The sod had panicked completely and failed to activate the hunker mode on his suit. The worst part of it all was that he didn't even catch a glimpse of the bastards who invaded their ship.

That part hurt the most.

"Shit.. we're in no shape to repel boarders! Retreat back into the hangar bay!"

* * *

With communications down, the boarders were free to break out of their foothold to sow death and mayhem while keeping everyone else in the dark. As soon as it looked like someone made good progress in repairing communications, a critical subcomponent would suddenly short out or burst into flames. The invaders knew exactly how to screw up the repair effort.

Sending out probes yielded nothing either to the defenders. The bridge crew tried monitoring the enemy using various spying tools, such as tiny electronic dustmites that carried a miniscule camera, or extending a sonic echo-location pulse to paint a picture of the figures moving throughout Harry's ship. All efforts failed. The dustmites were fried, the echoes revealed nothing but empty air, and any other method were met with the same fate.

That included Harry's men. The departments near the foothold had all sent out various scouts and teams, to no avail, as not a single peep returned. The few security detachments near at hand were also completely lost. With scattered reports of more attacks and disruptions, Harry's blood slowly ran cold. Whoever boarded the ship was good. Extremely good. Maybe even as good as him. The lack of any intelligence on these attackers galled him into a deeper chill. Why had none of his men reported back? How were they killed? How many intruders had slipped into his ship? The _Eviscerator_ was _**his**_ ship damnit! No one else had the _right_ to trample over his possessions and kill off all of his minions under his very own nose.

Having waited long enough to see that Claris and Cleveland's bumbling attempts achieved no results, Harry took charge of the situation himself. "Stop sending out our men to die. It's obvious that they're too well entrenched. We need to spread them out and force them to thin their ranks over a larger area."

"But that would mean abandoning most of our systems. We'll never get the ship operational!"

"The outside world can wait!" Harry snapped with more venom than he would have cared to show. "We don't need to man the turrets or the engine room. We only need to keep control over four of our most critical compartments: the reactor room, the Ship Crystal room, the armory and the bridge. All other functions are expendable, including life support. We can live without recycled air and water for a few weeks. But without a functioning reactor, we're dead in the water."

"…Very well." His Second conceded, and passed on a handful of instructions to a few security goons to deliver through the entire ship. "We can't stay on the defensive forever, Harry. We have to attack them eventually before they wreck too much of the ship. What are your intentions, sir?"

"I'm not going to rush in like a headless Gryffindor. That's exactly what they want." The captain instead touched his fingers to the spot besides his elbow and called out, "Arnaud! Answer my _**summons**_!"

The ghostly transparent form of Dr. Selner's undead colleague plunged through the bulkhead as if launched from a catapult. His flight ended abruptly in front of Harry's impatiently tapping feet. Despite Dr. Rodriguez' discomfort, the shade picked himself up from the floor as gracefully as he was able, brushing some imaginary dust off his coat along the way.

"You called, o lord and master?" He responded rather sarcastically, not appreciative of the fact he was dragged in such a rude fashion.

"I know you've been skulking around my ship. You've probably caught a glimpse of our attackers. Tell me all you know about them."

As his minion chose to remain silent, Harry added a growl. "Now."

Arnaud winced a little, but whether it was due to some magical compulsion or Harry's sharp tone no one was sure. "I sensed their corrupted minds as soon as they stepped foot on the upper deck. They are unnatural creatures, more beast than man. I could barely stand the sight of them. So intensely they reacted to my presence that their very rage drove me away!"

"But you've seen them, correct?" Harry pressed on, his eyes gleaming at the first sign of progress. "What are their numbers? Their armaments? Their talents?"

"You ask the wrong questions, Master of Death! You did not see what I saw. You did not feel their eyes probing through your very existence. It is madness to go against their might even with your considerable powers! Be sensible, boy. Abandon ship and order everyone to board the escape pods! It is your only chance!"

Sighing, Harry continued to try to wring out information from the spooked ethereal man. Even after putting the hysteric ghost through some painful torture, Arnaud was simply too addled to provide Harry what he needed. All Dr. Rodriguez sputtered was some nonsense about doom and terror. At least captain learned one useful thing out of the useless ghost: these invaders had to be formidable if they were able to disorient the ship's resident spirit. A slight spike of fear ran down his spine. This meant he could not afford to underestimate this enemy.

"Cleveland! Assemble the First Squad and make sure they all carry their beam laser rifles. Send the rest of the security team to barricade the departments I mentioned earlier. Claris!"

"Yes, Captain?" The Commander answered eagerly, already twitching for her pistol.

"Hold down the fort for me. I don't want to worry about any threats on our critical systems while I'm leading the attack."

As Harry left the bridge with Cleveland and his men in tow, Claris sagged back in her seat with a disappointed expression. She glared at the remaining bridge officers and stared helplessly at her half-inoperable instruments. "Get a communications line going! I want a link to the reactor room!"

* * *

The invaders spread out slowly amongst the ship. At least Harry had the feeling that they were taking their time. Instead of making a grand push towards the reactor room or bridge, the boarders seemed to be content with sweeping out the handful of men who had been left behind to fend for themselves. They were either supremely confident in their takeover or they had something else in mind.

Whatever the reason for their sluggish pace, Harry was grateful for the good fortune. He used the time to grab a few magical trinkets from his quarters before heading down to the mess hall at the center of the middle deck. He barged straight through the kitchen, meeting confused and frightened vacsuited house-elves on his way.

"Captain Harry! What a fine time for you to be entering the mess!" Rysa greeted grittily as she tried to wiggle another house-elf in her vacsuit. "I hope you're not here for a sandwich while our ship is under assault."

"Cut the crap and help me repel those bastards." And with a rude thrust he shoved a spare pulse rifle in her hands. "Every security detachment we've sent so far have been annihilated."

The female pirate captain looked rather ghastly at the weapon in her hands. "You want _me_ to go into battle with you? With my elves? Are you out of your fucking mind? Why can't you just wave your magic stick and make the problem go away?"

"Magic doesn't work that way!" He yelled in her face, tired of wasting time in trying to get her to obey. "Now get your butt off that chair and prepare the elves for battle. It's time to test your vaunted tactics. I'll be going ahead. Send your elves after me as soon as possible. If we fail, none of us is going to make it out of this battle alive."

Rysa wanted to scream at the boy that it was too soon, that the elves were too stupid to handle explosives, that their apparition across the ship was unstable, that they might freeze up at the first sign of violence. But she knew it was futile. Her experience as a captain recognized that Harry's course of action was the only right choice. They needed to bring their full capabilities to the fore in order to lodge the invaders from their ship. If Harry felt he needed the elves, then the threat was more serious than she first presumed. As soon as she finished equipping the elves, she trooped out of the mess hall with her rifle firmly in her hands.

The babbling elves followed her with none of their useful cheerfulness. It seemed that they weren't that retarded. Rysa needed them to be as sharp and obedient as possible for what she had in mind. "Alright boys and girls, listen up, because this isn't another drill! This is life and death now…"

As Rysa organized the house-elves, Harry reached what he thought would be the tentative area on the upper deck where the invaders were about to reach. The corridors were lighted only by some kind of high-tech 'glow-in-the-dark' material in absence of powered lighting. Gravity still appeared to be working, but anything else looked dead.

The emptiness looked too suspicious. There wasn't even a single trace of blood.

"Cleveland, anything on your sensors?"

"No sir. Nothing on infrared, X-ray, or any other channels. It's completely deserted except for a pair of thermal footprints." The security chief clung tighter to his beam rifle. "They only go up ahead. There's nothing heading back the way we came."

They delved deeper in the enemy territory, wary of any ambushes around corners and beyond the sealed hatches. It was only after a minute of silent crawling that Harry suddenly felt a faint caress on his mind. He instinctively raised his Occlumency shields. The tiny presence receded slowly from his barriers. Harry was about to brush it off as another trick in his mind, until the presence came back, along with five other strands. They collectively crashed against his mental walls and banged their psychic lances against the impervious surface.

'_-unknown mind-whisper-SCREAM-whisper-SCREAM-whisper-barrier-difficulty-unknown-whispCREAM-__**HAMMER**__-'_

The boy collapsed, his revolver sprawling from his grip. "Agh! There's.. something.. _something_ in my mind!.."

"What's wrong!" Janis cried as she bent down to examine Harry's anguished form. "Is there something in the air?"

Harry tried to push the woman back on her feet. He could feel a handful of the mental spears receding. "No..noo.. behind you.. ambush.. get away!"

The First Squad flexed into action at Harry's warning. Janis shouldered her rifle in a single swipe and lifted Harry's limp form over her pauldrons. She already started to jog back out the other way as the Squad retreated while facing the corridor ahead. One of the men bent down to pick up Harry's lost revolver.

It saved his life.

A flush of terrible electric rainbow energy flooded down the corridor, almost missing the bent-over grunt, and blasted another member of the First Squad full in the face. He didn't even had time to scream as wickedly sharp energy bolts ground away his Class II boarding armor and slashed the flesh from his very bones in a matter of seconds, before grinding even the skull into dust. The beam rifle he had held in his hands exploded in a shock of plasma and concussive force, shoving everyone against the bulkheads.

"Get that motherfucker!"

A couple of recovering veterans already started to open fire, not particularly caring where their beam ended up at so long it was pointed towards the enemy. They achieved one savagely cut-off cry as Cleveland's beam managed to cleave through whoever was hiding just behind the corner at the end of the hall. The enemy's death lifted the sense of despair that was hanging over the First Squad's heads.

Seeing that their beams were currently suppressing any counter-attack, Cleveland thought it best to take advantage of this window of opportunity before it closed. "Fall back! Retreat! We have to protect Captain Harry!"

The men continued their tactical withdrawal until they reached another crossroads. They bumped into the paralyzed forms of Harry and Janis, who appeared to be mesmerized by something ahead of them. Cleveland gently shoved Janis to the side to aim his rifle forward.

In front of them, blocking the way ahead, was a single child.

An armored and dangerous-looking child.

The little boy shy of eight years old suddenly grinned behind his transparent faceplate. His intense eyes widened madly at the sight of their arrival.

Cleveland instinctively bore his the sights of his rifle down the boy's scarred forehead. His gauntleted finger itched at his trigger, but somehow he hesitated. What was a kid doing on the ship? And why was this boy blocking their way forward?

The out-of-place intruder slowly raised a single palm. Some kind of black construction covered the armored hand like a leech. The nozzle extending from the palm began to glow in faint, soothing blue. Despite the threatening gesture, Cleveland still couldn't pull his trigger. It wasn't as if the boy carried a weapon, and the way he raised his hand looked so natural that he couldn't be attacking them, could he?

Could he?

Something akin to a lightning bolt suddenly thrust from the little boy's glowing palm. The flashing attack cut straight through Janis' armored stomach and exit from behind with an explosion of gore and heated metal.

Her witless body lifelessly flopped against the deck. Janis was dead before anyone knew what had hit them. Even Harry stood helpless as he felt the loyal pirate slip off his battle robes. Some kind of shock seemed to envelop over them all. Cleveland tried to bring his mind back to the present, to the threat that was grinning impishly in their direction, and to the weapon that could end it all. He pushed back the haze that clouded his control over his body and managed to squeeze the trigger of his rifle.

A split-second before the green lance of death spat out of his barrel, the armored child instantly brought up both of his palms. The nozzles on them glowed in radiant white just as Cleveland's bright green laser impacted against his body with enough heat to melt the Evie's bulkheads.

The boy disappeared in a wash of pure thermal overload.

The security chief rejoiced. He had broken from whatever wacky poison that had been imposed on his mind and killed one of the boarders. He almost couldn't believe how easy it was to kill them. You just had to push your will into taking back your body, nothing more. His rifle sputtered out as he released the trigger. It wouldn't do to empty his entire pack, even if it was magically enhanced.

A slight tingle ran down the crook of Cleveland's neck. He turned his head from his comrades and back towards the direction of the kid.

The boy was still alive!

The boy was still _fucking_ alive!

The heat should have melted down his entire diminutive body into ash and slag. How could he have blocked a Class III beam laser with nothing but a flimsy layer of coated armor? It didn't make any sense!

The kid probably knew what they were thinking, for his grin widened as Cleveland's distress grew larger. Eventually, the boy opened his mouth. He didn't do it to say something.

He did it to roar with his pre-pubescent voice. "RWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!"

"It's fucking crazy!" One of the other mercenary stammered. "It's a freaking nutball! Shoot it now before it does something else!"

Despite the call, no one reacted. Their bodies were stilled with fear and their minds were stoked with terror. So great was their paralysis that the enemy boy could let his palms glow in ominous red without a single care in the world.

_Click._

Then, suddenly, it was as if a mirror broke. A cold wash of sanity crashed back in everyone's minds. Harry's silent form suddenly sprung into motion. The older boy had his strange magical stick in front of him in a flash.

"I can't bloody well believe it." Harry spat out harshly. "Those fucking muggles! What have they done to you, kid?"

"RWWAAARRR! DIEEEEE!"

The red glows in the palms of the enemy kid suddenly sprang forward in a mass of flame and otherworldly energies. The stream flowed down the corridor like a raging torrent that threatened to engulf them all into a fiery hot death. The soldiers senselessly shot their beam rifles against the unstoppable wave, achieving nothing but disturbing some minor currents.

As soon as the wave reached their prone positions, Harry whooshed a little with his wand and the flame seemed to lose all its composition. Before their very own eyes, the heat that assaulted their armor faded harmlessly away as the captain somehow managed to break the structure that bound the wave of fire together. It was now the strange boy's turn to look astonished as his own deadly attack had been dispelled so casually before his young and maddened eyes.

The captain only shook his head in pity, or at least a semblance of it. Cleveland didn't think Harry was ever capable of feeling empathy.

"I had no idea that muggles would go so far as to force your accidental magic into.. this. If I had known…"

A confusing jumble of mental images and words thrust into the security chief and everyone else's minds. It blinded them, confused them, and even caused some of his men to drop their weapons. As the pressure forced Cleveland to his knees, he was still able to notice that Harry remained unaffected. The young man continued to stare at the single boy in helpless fascination.

A small question popped up in Harry's mind, and he spontaneously voiced it. "So what will happen to you after you turn eleven?"

The angry boy abruptly lowered his head so that the wizard couldn't meet his eyes. Harry stepped forward, carefully and calmly, not wanting to startle the kid. Plodding forward, he cast his eyes on the intruder's armor with more attention. The suit looked to be built for stealth, seeing as it was mainly in matte dark coating. Strange thin lines ran over the boy's armor, and they seemed to be pulsing softly from the belly to the arms. Did they signify the magical currents within the boy's body? The armor lacked any other identifying or distinguishing marks, save that the material seemed to be too.. strange to be made out of metal or any other familiar material.

It actually reminded him of the anti-nEMP plating on the design of the _Immortal Marauder_. But before Harry could muse any further, the boy finally reacted.

Both palms were raised.

Both palms were glowing.

Both palms discharged the same lightning bolt that pierced Janis' stomach.

"SHIIT!"

A grunt lost his arm as he dove out of the way from one of the deathly projectiles. The other bolt that was meant for Harry was about to burn him into ash until it suddenly met the formidable tip of his Deathstick. The ancient wand stopped the lightning fast bolt in its track and accumulated all the energy into a tiny glowing ball that hovered over the tip. Harry strained at the pressure of containing the mass of the crudely shaped magic. To call it a spell would be a stretch. This was nothing more than a collection of raw primal magic that vaguely mimicked the element of lightning. What it lacked in finesse was more than made up by the sheer weight of magic. Harry struggled at it until he finally succeeded in taming the wild, uncontrollable energy.

Harry gazed at the oscillating ball for a moment, then turned his attention back to the stunned looking boy. "I believe this is yours."

He flicked the bolt of lightning back to its original caster. Though the boy already raised his palms into some sort of shielding discharge, the compressed attack was simply too strong to deflect. The bolt pierced through the dumbstruck kid's barrier and impacted on his armored chest. The re-purposed bolt shattered most of the crystalline material into shiny, reflective fragments, and continued on to fry the soft unprotected flesh beneath. There was no way he could have survived the awesome onslaught.

The dead kid's body impacted the deck with a thud.

The First Squad stared at the tiny corpse, hardly believing that a young kid like that could be forged into this terrible shape. Who the hell turned these children into monsters? They should have all been attending school instead of pushed into battle.

In that very moment, a torrid ensemble of child-like screams assaulted their minds from every direction. The kid's siblings felt the murder and anguished over their loss. The anguish quickly turned into wrath, and the images that plagued the First Squad intensified into gruesome depictions of their mutilated corpses.

Again, only Harry remained unaffected. He stood calmly with his wand ready in his grip. He turned towards a darkened corridor and bellowed a challenge to the darkness lurking beyond. "Face me like real warriors! I'm open! Try your best shot at me! Come at me so you may experience how a _real_ wizard fights!"

A messy trio of roars answered him in return. The kids that hid out of the light suddenly burst forward with incredible waves of raw magical energy. Harry met the attack with the confidence of a duelist.

The fight was on.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	27. I: Rout and Resurgence - Repost

March 14, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Rout and Resurgence_

* * *

"We've got another fella' doc!"

Selner strayed from her work to examine the next poor fellow to be brought into the medical bay. A pair of deck hands gently lowered their fallen comrade. The injured woman had her leg sheared off from the knee, but besides the grievous amputation she appeared fine. She'd survive.

"Put her in the stasis pod along with the others."

"But doc," Dirk began. "If you fix up her leg with one of your miracle devices you can put her back into the fight!"

"Look at her." She gestured carelessly with her blood-spattered gloves. "She's practically unconscious. She can't even walk, let alone hold a gun. The best I can do for her on short notice is stabilize her body while I let the organ cultivator grow a replacement leg for her. Now get to it!"

The two crewmen sheepishly followed her directive. The doctor sighed to herself as she went back to dermostitching her current patient. Just because she studied medical science didn't mean that she was suitable to be a medical officer aboard a warship. The pressure of saving heavily injured crewmen in a space of just a single hour or less weighed heavily on Selner. More than a dozen of half-dead corpses had already arrived at the medical bay, and she was forced to decide which person to put in a stasis pod and which person to abandon to his or her fate. There weren't much more stasis pods left, and as the power matrix continued to fluctuate throughout the ship, she dreaded losing power despite the numerous safeguards.

She already regretted leaving a few of the hopeless cases out to die.

Once, she would have been horrified to see herself consign a handful of wounded men to death. But the reality was that she was only one person. No other person on the ship possessed any degree of medical knowledge beyond their crude first aid procedures. No one was even remotely qualified to configure and control the sophisticated machinery in the bay. A ship this size should have carried a full complement of medical staffers: three nurses, one assistant doctor and one fully qualified fleet surgeon.

Instead, there was only her, trying feebly to do the work of five. She wasn't even a practitioner before she took on this position. Selner had always applied herself in research, not in the nitty gritty work of fixing up the injured and the sick.

The bay opened up again, ready to let through another patient.

"Please lay the wounded onto a cot." She called out as she hastily tried to finish stitching up the skin of her current patient. "I'll be there in a minute."

Then, her head exploded.

'_Prey-prey-prey-target-prey!'_

Selner barely managed to swivel around before a tranquilizer pierced into her neck through her vacsuit. A mischievous pair of children grinned cheekily as they caught her fall.

"What…?"

* * *

Harry and his crack squad managed to hold their ground against their enemies. The weirdly garbed and nonsensical children continued to blast all manner of primordial magic against them, but Harry deftly deconstructed the potent blasts into harmless energy. Yet he could not let up in his defense to strike back. He had to rely on his subordinates to kill the little buggers.

Chief of Security Cleveland, having seen one of his closest companions fall, went mad with rage as he blasted his artificed Class III at anyone who looked like a kid. The remaining survivors were in no better shape, and risked overheating their barrels despite all the magical safeguards built into their weapon.

Together the disparate defenders pushed the invaders back, never quite killing anyone but not letting their own ranks get hit. As long as they were not outflanked, they stood a good chance at survival.

As Harry caught another lightning bolt with his wand, he called out, "Get the brats on the left!"

His crew obediently redirected their fire, occupying two of their three current attackers and forcing them to pull up their shields. Harry himself focused on the remaining attacker to the right and let the energy on top of his Elder Wand go loose.

The kid had learned from the previous encounter and didn't bother to put up a shield. Instead, he supercharged his armor and somehow sped up to dodge to the side.

Too bad Harry sent out a dispersed storm instead of a single focused bolt. The wash of electrical tendrils washed harmlessly against the shields of the two defending boarders but passed unopposed through the dodging kid's armor. It stunned him long enough for a single beam rifle to carve him apart.

"Another fucking devil down."

It took five more minutes in order to outsmart the other two minors. For all their ferocity, they lacked the wisdom to come up with a more sophisticated attack. It seemed these were truly children and not adults forced into un-aging bodies.

'_I guess magic still bloody exists. At least in a raw form. But why so young, and why only raw magic? Could it be that whoever is in charge can't use anything else but accidental magic?'_

Millions of thoughts swirled in Harry's mind as the implications of what he had just witnessed fully sank in. There were forces out there who were aware of magic, perhaps not the full history, but were at least aware enough to detect accidental magic and kidnap those who exhibit it in order to train them into killing machines. The wizard looked down upon a corpse, studying the twisted visage of a child too young for war. The strange abilities these child soldiers wielded in abandon were much too extreme to be natural. Those who conditioned them must have tampered with their bodies somehow, drawing out their Legilimency and boosting their accidental magic discharges.

'_If whoever is in charge of this is making such an extreme effort, then they probably don't know how to make potentials utilize magic after their eleventh birthday. Full grown wizards are much more effective than these.. freaks.'_

A slight shudder ran through Harry's body as he called them freaks, but for once, the word sounded appropriate. These freaks of nature was a perversion of everything that stood for magic. Magic was refined, beautiful, elegant. What those overlords who experimented on these kids had done was tarnish those very ancient principles into a brutal hackjob.

"The corridor is clear, sir." Cleveland called out as he finished scanning their immediate surroundings.

The suddenly tired wizard nodded. "I'm sure this is not the last of them. We will have to scour the rest of this section to make sure we've flushed them clean."

The squad patrolled the remaining corridors, carefully sweeping around corners and hatches in order to make sure they didn't run into an ambush. Considering that the invaders could read their minds, there was a good chance they could surprise them once again. Yet after roughly ten minutes carefully skulking about, they encountered nothing else except for Rysa and her bumbling squad of house-elves. After directing them to stay back and tend to repairs, Harry cautiously decided to head to the breach where the enemy boarding pod had pierced through, when a sudden jolt knocked them off their feet.

"Umph! What the—?"

A second, larger jolt rocked the _Eviscerator_, before being followed by a sudden fluctuation of power. The corridor ahead of Harry slammed shut for some reason.

"What's happening?!"

The turbulence ended a few seconds later. Harry and the rest shakily got up and tried to figure out what had just happened. Luckily, the ship-wide comm system came back online.

"This is Commander Claris, critical alert, I repeat, critical alert. We have suffered from a grievous boarding action that have left an unknown but significant amount of casualties behind. Moments ago, the boarders disengaged from our vessel. For what reason I don't know but their absence is allowing us to begin to restore our systems again. Do not forget we are still in the middle of a fleet skirmish. Keep to battle stations and await further instructions. Claris, out."

Harry immediately activated his comm unit and opened a private link to Claris. "Is the ship clear of boarders?"

The holographic visage of his second-in-command grimaced. "If the sensors can be trusted, then yes."

"Do you know why they pulled back?" Harry pressed on, feeling a bit uneasy at the sudden withdrawal of the mind-reading brats.

They couldn't have been _that_ scared of him, right? It might also be that they deemed the news of his existence and powers to be a more important priority than his death, and chose to spare him only to capture and exploit him later.

Claris took an uncharacteristic pause. After mulling over her words, she cautiously began to explain. "Sir.. the boarders had us by the throat. They could have gone for the reactor room or the bridge and take control of the ship, but they haven't even shown the slightest interest in them. Whatever they went out to do, taking us out wasn't their mission."

"Then _why_ did they go through the trouble of boarding us in the first place?" Harry bore on, feeling more and more anxious about the whole unsettling situation.

The commander licked her lips, knowing this to be a sensitive topic to her captain. "A pair of enemy intruders invaded the medical bay and kidnapped Dr. Selner. We only just found out after their boarding pod disengaged. Harry… I'm sorry."

Selner… gone?

Away?

Kidnapped?

Something broke within Harry. He didn't collapse. He didn't cry out a useless phrase. He simply stared at some empty point in space.

"C.. Can you track the boarding pod..?"

His Second shook her head. "That's impossible in our current condition. The pod fried most of our outer sensor installations and knocked out many other subsystems. We'd have a hard time tracking a stealth capsule under normal conditions anyway. Our ship just isn't good enough."

He gripped his wand tight. His magic failed him. His people failed him. His ship failed him. These unknown raiders had completely outplayed him, and extracted something precious out of his defeat. Something irreplaceable.

"Selner…"

There was no way he could retrieve her, either by technological or magical means. For all the times he loved Selner, he didn't think to put something as simple as a portkey on her person. Why had he not been more careful?

His dwindling magic, that was why.

He knew that even if he could afford to make another portkey, he didn't have enough juice for anything else. The insidious curses that were constantly gnawing away at his magical core at this very moment were almost strong enough to overpower his natural rate of replenishment. If he risked going over the edge by creating a single portkey, he'd be on the road to magical exhaustion, followed by an eternal coma. The ancient wizard could not afford to fall for that trap. Not again, never again.

'_I'm sorry Selner, but the risk was too great. I'll… I'll rescue you someday once I manage to heal myself. That's a promise.'_

The boy shook his head and blinked his eyes to get rid of his budding tears. He knew he had to overcome the crushing emotion of defeat. The loss of yet another loved one cut him deeply, and threatened to paralyze him at this critical juncture in his life. He shouldn't let himself be carried away like this, not when his ship was falling apart and at the complete mercy of the pirates.

"Claris." Harry focused back to his commlink to the bridge. "I'm not in any condition to give orders.. so take command and get us the hell away from this fight. I'll.. I'll direct the house-elves in their repairs. Harry, out."

The wizard shut off the link, holstered his pistol but kept his wand in hand. He then marched off to find the nearest house-elf. Their ship was still in a critical condition and they needed to bring her back online.

'_Selner, I'm sorry.'_

* * *

Claris barely managed to contain her utter glee. That horny bitch had been taken from the ship! She could kiss whoever ordered the nab job, and perhaps throw a blowjob for good measure. With Selner out of the way, Harry no longer suffered from any underhanded wiles. The doctor had kept Harry firmly in her grip the past few weeks, allowing Harry to think of nothing except for the things _she _found most pressing. Now that the manipulative cow was gone, Harry would finally be free from Selner's spell.

Oh, sure, the loss of their sole medical expert was devastating. They had ten dead and over twenty wounded men. Without someone knowledgeable enough to operate the medical machines, a significant portion of those wounded would probably pass on. The loss of so many crewmen was regrettable, but not fatal, as they had plenty of spare crew to operate the Evie. The only trouble up ahead was trying to rope a new doctor to serve under Harry, but that was a concern for later.

Right now she had a ship to steer. "Bring our engines up slowly helmsman. We don't have the integrity to accelerate too quickly. Jennings, plot us a course out of the battle but one that puts us in the general direction towards Io. Blake, how's damage control holding up?"

The officer gave a curt report. "I-I don't have a lot of information at hand, ma'm. Our power grid is operating at only 63 percent efficiency, and our aft starboard turret is completely cut off. We have a big hole at our upper starboard side and the systems closest to it are completely fried through. We don't have the speed, stealth, armor and guns to put up a decent fight."

The female in charge swore softly. She saw on her own display how depressingly severe the outline of the ship lit up in red. The enemy pod had drilled right through the heavy plating of the ship, heavily crippling her combat effectiveness with its savage entry and exit.

'_At least the grand melee between the pirate corvettes and the Brewersfield PMC ships hasn't spilled over to our location.'_

That was one saving piece of grace. "Mr. Jennings, plot a course towards the nearest area of interference you can find, preferably along the way to Io. We need to escape our enemy's sensor envelope."

"Aye aye, ma'm. I've already set a course." The old navigator efficiently transmitted the plot, which Claris approved without a thought.

The next hour passed as the mutilated _Eviscerator_ limped away from the battle between the pirate coalition and the mercenary forces. The outcome of the battle was never in doubt. Claris dispassionately followed the battle from a distance, missing nothing as her remaining sensors easily captured the sheer amount of heat emissions radiating from the dueling vessels. She noted how the disorganized swarms of pirate corvettes ganged up on their outnumbered mercenary counterparts and overwhelmed them by sheer weight of fire. She tracked how the monstrosity that was called the _Mirrored Abyss_ took care of the other destroyers and carriers by herself. At a critical moment in time, the Brewersfield forces lost total cohesion, and scattered in all directions in a futile attempt to flee the battle.

Unlike the _Eviscerator _though, the Brewersfield vessels didn't possess enough of a lead to shake off their nimble pursuers. None escaped alive.

Except for the Evie. Almost miraculously, none of the pirate corvettes chose to divert from their battle to pursue the crippled Evie. While Claris understood that even in her current condition the mobile carrier was still an ample match against any corvette, it was uncharacteristic for the pirates to let them go.

Now that the battle wound down, Claris had more time to put recent events into perspective.

'_Someone went through a lot of trouble gathering a prodigious amount of corvettes as well as the _Mirrored Abyss_ to attack a convoy with little intrinsic value. The pirates destroyed every ship except for us and the liner carrying the remnants of Io's diplomatic delegation, but as far as I know none of them were particularly notable. The only other anomaly was that we were merely boarding instead of engaged in a ship-to-ship battle. And despite having plenty of chances of crippling us, they merely nabbed one of our crew before disengaging.'_

Claris was by no means an idiot. Someone with her aptitude and potential could immediately discern the true intentions of the enemy. _'They were after Selner from the start. Who _is _she?'_

The pirate commander tapped her finger on the edge of her captain's seat, going over the profile on Selner she had read some time ago. That was when she merely considered the concubine to be a rival for Harry's influence. Bringing up the profile again from the solar system-wide information net, she studied the extensive information provided to her with a new eye. This time she specifically studied Selner's contacts and relations.

The name near the top immediately drew her attention. The doctor's husband was James Selner, the sub-director of the Ganymedian branch of the Exploration Society.

'_Of course, the all-powerful Exploration Society. Only someone high up in the corporate or societal ladder would have the buckets of credits to waste on this ridiculous rescue attempt.'_

She continued to tap her fingers absently, thinking through the implications of this day. There was much to reconsider now that Dr. Selner was out of the way and presumably soon to be reunited with her husband.

Claris slowly smirked. _'Good riddance.'_

* * *

Cleveland lifted the lifeless body from his shoulders and dropped it against the surface of the conference table. Those gathered around flinched as they gazed upon the corpse of one of their attackers. Everyone except Harry and Cleveland recoiled as they noted at the form's exceedingly young age. The kid barely looked to be above ten. Yet the still-snarling corpse looked ready to tear enemies apart. His brightly colored armor made out of an unknown material was mostly intact, save for the large burn hole through the chest, courtesy of Harry's lightning riposte. This was one of the few more intact-looking corpses in their possession.

"Are all of the boarders.. like that?" Stacy, the weapons officer asked queasily.

"Yes." The Chief of Security replied tersely. "Every attacker that the crew encountered looked like kids. There are no traces of anyone among their midst who even looked like an adult."

From the looks of everyone's expressions, Harry guessed that none of the people gathered here knew anything about these unorthodox soldiers. To be sure, he invited his civilian advisers, keeping a particularly close eye to Lady Amande. As a highly privileged member of the ruling elite of a Jovian state, she might be more exposed to these kinds of secrets.

Yet even the princess appeared stumped as everyone else. He posed the question to be sure. "Amande, did Io ever involve itself in.. this?"

"No." She replied firmly, then let doubt creep in. "I'm not certain, actually. The use of child-soldiers is too abhorrent to be used openly. If we had anything like this, it would no doubt be restricted to a need-to-know basis. I'm not that high up in the food chain to be in on such kinds of state secrets. We don't even know whether our attackers are state or corporate."

"Does anyone else have a clue of our attackers or who might have ordered it?" Harry asked, trying to lift himself from his depression in order to lead the meeting. He _had _to know who these people were, and why they kidnapped Selner.

Everyone shrugged while Claris debated on revealing her speculation. On one hand, helping her captain make sense of the attack and provide useful insights might win her brownie points. On the other hand, revealing the likely identity of the attackers as well as the probable location for Selner's whereabouts might divert the boy in doing something exceedingly absurd, like attacking the Exploration Society headquarters in Callisto. This Claris couldn't afford. The Exploration Society was a powerful institution with tentacles in every corporation and government. The _Eviscerator _was lucky enough to escape alive. If Harry antagonized the sleeping giant, Claris had no doubt he would be utterly annihilated.

The risk of such a reaction, along with the chance of Lilliane Selner's unwelcome return, sealed her decision. She kept her thoughts to herself and prayed Harry didn't find out she withheld crucial information. Only when it looked like the discussion might turn in this direction would she volunteer her theory.

The wizard in question looked imperiously at each of the attendants. Disappointed that no one else spoke up, he went on to the next pressing issue.

"While those of you who haven't met these children in battle might think they were harmless, the truth is anything but. Cleveland, can you give a description of their attack? The short version please."

The Chief nodded. He had spent the past hours reconstructing the entire incident. "From the moment their boarding pod pierced through the upper side of our ship, the systems nearest to the breach suffered critical failures akin to a powerful nEMP strike. This knocked out many ship-wide services including comm systems. Our lack of coordination and alertness let the invaders have free reign throughout the ship. None of the crew except for Harry were capable enough to repel them effectively."

This caused some to look up in surprise. "How can these children give you so much trouble?"

"For one, we all underestimated them. These _monsters_ are anything but children." Cleveland growled at the numerous friends that have died at their hands. "I suppose Harry can give a better description of their capabilities."

The boy waved a hand. "Continue with your story first."

"Well, the boarders, likely numbering about ten to fifteen, slowly spread out of their entry point, eliminating everyone in their way but not going out to secure any particular objective. Only later when Harry and our First Squad started to inflict some casualties did we trigger one of their squads into action." Cleveland activated a security log that replayed the events in the medical bay. "My guess is the other squads kept us occupied to buy enough time to retrieve Selner and carry her to their boarding pod. As soon as she was secure, the pod retracted. As far as we know, they did not damage our ship beyond the initial breech and electrical short."

"Do you mean that this entire exercise was only meant to extract a single person off this ship?" Zhang exclaimed, and adopted a thoughtful expression. "That would imply that she was their primary objective."

Claris panicked at seeing where the conversation was going. _'Damnit, I can't avoid it now. I better speak up first before the professor can take all the credit.'_

"Dr. Selner's husband is the sub-director the Callistoan branch of the Exploration Society. I can imagine he enjoys enough wealth and influence to fund this pirate expedition."

The news injected a dose of energy. Harry snapped up and faced Claris with a disturbing amount of focus. "Who is this fellow? How can you be sure?"

To Claris' dismay, Zhang cut her off as she was about to reply. "I've met James Selner. He's an amiable looking person, but someone in his position doesn't survive long without developing fangs. It is entirely possible for him to appropriate enough funds and call in some favors to organize the attack. The man has always been a bit possessive about his wife."

"Why? Is she wealthy? Smart? Well-connected?"

"Not particularly. As far as I know, they married out of love. James could have chased after bigger fish, but Lily.." The Asian shrugged. "She has a way with men."

While Zhang provided little tidbits about this seemingly powerful sub-director, Harry bared his fangs at the thought of this person. _'How dare he take what is mine. Husband or not, this James fellow will never have her again.'_

At the end of Zhang's lecture, Harry thanked him for his contribution. "Very well. It makes sense that James is the one who targeted us. I recall that Selner had a call with him on Europa. That likely tipped off her location, enabling him to gather a force to intercept us when we were away from the colony. Yes… it all makes sense."

"Sir, may I ask what your intentions are regarding Selner?" Claris asked, almost dreading Harry's answer. "The Exploration Society is not to be trifled with. They have enough resources to destroy entire planets."

The boy smiled ruefully. "They have something of mine. More importantly, they are the only connection I have to _this_." He gestured at the corpse on the table. "They're the only lead I have to my past. I _have _to pursue them."

"But that's crazy!"

Over the objections of the others, Harry raised his hand. "I didn't say right now. I'm close to my limits regarding my magic. I can't afford to waste my energy knocking on James' door. Selner can wait. I doubt James will hurt her or try anything funny. I trust her not to spill any secrets either. I first need to go to Earth and regain my full potential before I can do anything else."

The trip to Earth was old news and everyone knew they couldn't persuade Harry to reconsider. Instead, Amande picked up on a point Harry mentioned. "Did you say these.. children have something to do with your past? Your magical past?"

He nodded and turned to Cleveland. "Do you have any surviving footage?"

"Plenty." More than he'd like, actually, but he obediently replayed the logs on the holo display. The attendants watched with a varying mix of fascination and horror as they saw young boys and girls rend and tear anyone they came across with fantastical displays of elemental prowess. The sheer brutality and glee to which the children went about their business caused all of the more morally minded people to divert their eyes.

"Stop it, please stop it. I can't watch any longer." Amande whimpered.

Harry ignored her plea and studied every encounter, eager to learn more about these barbaric freaks. When the final recording ended, the wizard let a few moments pass to let the sights sink in. After Amande regained her composure, he began his story.

"This child, and others like it, are familiar to me. To you it might seem these highly advanced suits," Harry wrapped his knuckle against the kid's armor. "Might be the source of their attacks. The truth is worse. They are.. not like me, but close to it. Every time they let out a beam or bolt, they are channeling their internal magic in a primitive form. It's not as sophisticated as my own brand of magic, but that has to do with their age. I suspect the reason why this unit is only composed of children is because their magic is still undeveloped. Somehow they gained the ability to channel what my kind calls 'accidental magic' in an extremely potent form."

"Your kind? You mean there were more like you once?" This was certainly a revelation to Claris, Zhang and the rest. Harry never revealed anything about his past.

He nodded, absently. "Lots more. But they died off as far as I knew. It turns out that may not have been the case, although if whoever is in the know is resorting to accidental magic, then that likely means they haven't figured out how to form mature magic."

"Your kind of magic?"

"Precisely."

This affirmed that the wizard had indeed been successful in destroying Wizarding Society. _'But I guess I haven't been as extensive as I thought. I'd bet these children were all born away from Earth, and that the muggles probably picked up on their accidental magic somehow. That they are forcing their accidental magic probably means that they don't the resources of old Wizarding World to know how to bring out mature magic.'_

This tiny bit of insight brought a vast amount of relief to Harry. Even if there were no more wizards left alive, he had been half afraid the muggles would have retained knowledge in the forms of books and ruins. The more the muggles knew about wizards, the harder it was for him to stay ahead.

"There's one more peculiarity to their powers." The boy let out. "It might not be apparent in the security footage, but all of the children are exceptionally strong Legilimens. Mind readers."

Amande let out an audible gasp. "Psi-ops."

"You know something about them?!" Harry honed in on his wife like a shark. "Tell me everything. _Now._"

The fragile woman cringed at Harry's growl. "I don't know, I swear. It's just… I heard rumors and all. Nothing concrete."

"Does anyone else know about this 'psi-ops'?"

"Outside of holovids and stories? No."

"They're discussed in certain academic circles." Professor Zhang ventured slowly, trying to recall his thoughts on a field he had little to do with. "The discipline of transhumanism often theorizes on psionic manifestations. It's a very complex field and I don't know anything about it, but I do remember that a few radical theorists are convinced that it's possible that human beings can develop psionic powers. But as far as everyone is concerned these speculations always remained firmly speculative. Though in light of what happened today, with positive proof that psionics exist, it might be that some of those scholars had access to these.. subjects."

"That's a very good point." Harry concurred, pleased that he had another lead on magic. "I want you to start digging in on this field, especially the researchers in question. I may want to pay them a visit."

The meeting soon passed on to mundane matters such as repair schedules and course plots. All in all, the meeting had been very fruitful for Harry. His anguish over the loss of Selner had been dulled with all the new insights he had gleaned on the state of magic in this new age of human civilization.

Both sad, angry and hopeful, Harry concluded the meeting and withdrew to his chambers. He had a _lot _to think about. Magic was still alive.

* * *

**End Notes: **Removed.


	28. I: The Settling Dust - Repost

March 15, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Settling Dust_

* * *

The journey to the moon named Io trudged on slowly. The damage the _Eviscerator _sustained from the boarding attack had left their mark. Entire sections were cut off and exposed to outer space. The crew barely managed to repair their main gun. The other guns were not as well off; they couldn't access one of the Evie's secondary turrets. With many subsystems still offline, the ship was practically defenseless.

The crew were hardly better off. A third had been affected by the attack. The psi-ops commandos had been very brutal in their work, taking particular delight in cutting off limbs. While the state of medicine in the thirtieth century was amply capable in regeneration, without Dr. Selner aboard, no one knew how to operate the machines in the medical bay. The stasis pods that kept the injured stable were all occupied, leaving the less severe cases with only drugs to tide them over.

Claris sighed as she considered the depressing state of the Evie. The mobile carrier hadn't been under this much stress since the battle against the Orion Constellations. While built to military specs, she wasn't as robust as she was twenty years ago. Age took its toll on the seasoned vessel.

'_Damnit, why am I standing out here?'_

The pirate commander shifted on her feet as she stared at the hatch that led into Captain Harry's quarters. She knew that her superior was asleep inside the darkened and rune-covered chamber. She also knew that Harry slept alone. The boy still suffered from the loss of his 'concubine'.

'_He's vulnerable now. I can steal his heart if I step inside.'_

Yet Claris uncharacteristically lacked her usual confidence. Months trying to attract Harry's attention had taught her that her target was fickle and unpredictable. She could not be certain of her success. If she took a bold step, she risked losing Harry's respect. The boy wanted love. Selner, ever the deceiving bitch, provided that in spades. Claris didn't possess Selner's skill in stringing along hearts. She wouldn't be able to fake the emotion of love as well as Selner had done.

'_Do I love Harry?'_

The question unsettled her more than she expected. Sure, the raven-haired pirate loved men with power, something that Harry possessed in abundance. She loved Harry's forceful personality, his vicious streak, his bold decisions. Claris just loved the way he tormented others.

Yet, did she love Harry as a person, or did she merely loved the power that he wielded?

The answer, she knew, did not make her comfortable.

'_By Mercury, why am I hesitating? Harry's vulnerable and ripe for the picking! Why is this so hard.'_

They shared a bond with each other that went above mere friendship. He would protect her if she was in danger, and she would do the same if the situation was reversed. They respected each other's capabilities. Claris never dared to interfere with Harry's magic, and he extended the same courtesy to her. The tie between them was strong. Yet Claris couldn't close the distance.

The young man had undoubtedly changed her. When did she start becoming so sentimental? Didn't she intend to sleep with Harry in order to secure her influence over her? When did a relation between fellow scoundrels actually required _love_?

Yet Harry asked for it, and Claris couldn't betray the boy in that way. To carry on a charade would hurt him. Harry desired more than sex or companionship. He yearned for devotion on a level that Claris knew she couldn't provide. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't compare to Selner.

The woman withdrew her hand, turned on her heels, and marched away. Away from Harry, away from his half-empty bed.

'_I'm so pathetic.'_

* * *

Cleveland looked upon the caskets in silence. The storage chamber had been converted into an impromptu morgue in order to get the corpses out of sight.

'_Fifteen dead, and that isn't even the end of it.'_ The chief sighed.

How far he had come since the day of his initiation into Harry's service? He was just a regular pirate then, solid but not so inspirational. Because he was one of Captain Hargrave's few surviving boarders, Harry thrust him with the responsibility of managing the ship's security and close-combat contingent. Everything that dealt with infantry combat and internal security devolved to him. The burden weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He brushed his hand over the coffin that contained the body of his closest confidant. "Janis. I miss you."

If there was one bright spot in his career, it was Janis' invaluable assistance. She had been more than his secretary. Her skill in administration and zest in bonding together the new recruits had made his life much easier. The woman had such a soft heart that he was surprised she chose this career. To be involved in hand-to-hand combat meant exposing yourself to extreme risks. Every boarder knew that someday, their time would come. Like it had come for Janis.

"She was a good person."

The man besides him nodded.

"Do you feel guilty?"

"No. I've seen too many comrades die. All I see now are faces."

The younger looking man fell into silence as he regarded the caskets with a tired expression.

"You couldn't have done anything to prevent their deaths. No one could have predicted that we'd be attacked by psi-ops of all things."

Harry didn't bother to correct his subordinate. Instead he tacked a different subject. "How did you get into the business?"

"Pardon, sir?"

"How did you become a pirate, a boarder even? You seem so plain compared to the other men. You lack.. intensity."

Cleveland wrapped his arms and leaned against a bulkhead. "You know, it's awfully rude to ask a fellow pirate – ex-pirate now, I suppose, how he ended up as a pirate. We like to keep our past in the past and forget as much about it as we can."

"Oh… I didn't mean to step on your toes."

"It's alright, you didn't know." Cleveland reassured him, surprised that Harry was polite. _'It must be the dead._' He realized. "I guess, I can share a few things. You're my captain, after all."

Clearing his head, Cleveland tried to form a story he was comfortable sharing. "Many years ago, I was just a lad. A boy, much like you. I grew up on a smaller Jovian moon, not one of the Big Four. Times.. were bad. The rampant piracy affected everything. Less trade flowed our way. While we had plenty of resources to spare, the minerals we dug up weren't rare or exotic. As the shipping lanes became more threatened, the traders veered towards safer destinations."

"My parents weren't anything special. My dad was a miner, while my mother worked for the local administration. Yet as our colony's trade position grew worse, the tension between the miners and the government increased. It was inevitable that the miners would rebel. Yet if my father joined them, it meant fighting against everything my mother valued. The split divided our family, so that when the end had come.. both were taken away."

Cleveland shook his head, unwilling to describe the events that happened at that fateful day. "The colony was going south. I had little in the way of education and nowhere else to go. You could say that I fell into a bad crowd."

"A street gang?"

"No.. not quite. Not as wild, not as impulsive. We didn't chase after pleasure. We just kept our heads down while the loudmouths killed each other off. We were always in the background, ready to scavenge over the pickings. We held some territory, yes, but we didn't join the turf war. Instead, we smuggled weapons, provided drugs, deliver anything our clients could pay for. Yet, even that didn't go so well as the supply of smuggled goods was dwindling."

"Let me guess. The street gangs decided to eliminate your group in order to lessen the competition."

"They mutilated my friends. They captured them, cut open their bellies and let their guts spill out as they hung on hooks embedded into their flesh. I would have certainly been next. I.. I had to get away. I lost my nerve."

"There was a passage out. A trade trawler of some sorts. But the crew were smugglers, half-pirates. A lot of people on the colony wanted a way out, and they charged an exorbitant sum of credits for a passage. I didn't have anything to offer."

"So how did you manage it? I assume you somehow convinced them to take you on."

The middle-aged man took a deep breath and lowered his head. "The smugglers were in league with a rival street gang. I offered something more than a sack of credits."

The man had paused, letting his superior figure it out by himself. When Harry did, he let out a breath. "You betrayed your friends."

"I gave the smugglers everything. The locations to our safe houses access to our hidden accounts, the means to access the merchandise, the weaknesses of my leaders. I spilled out everything I knew because I _wanted_ to survive. It.. it haunts me to this day. I lost my honor and threw away my dignity."

Harry let the man get lost in his memories before asking his question. "So did the smugglers hold their end of the deal?"

"They took me off the colony." A mirthful smile appeared on Cleveland's face. "But since I held no leverage, they could do everything they wanted with me. They recruited me rather forcefully, and that was the start of my pirate career. I specialized in personal combat since that was the only viable path forward for me. I was never a quick study and I don't have a spacer background, so I had no talent in gunnery, engineering or other complex systems. But put a rifle in my hands and I can anything kill easily enough. It comes naturally to me. You could say I had a lot of practice."

"Aren't you afraid? Not a lot of pirates seem to like close combat, and the only ones that do seem to be adrenaline junkies."

"Return fire doesn't faze me very much. I guess.. I guess I still feel guilty about that day. If I take a pulse to my chest, then I know it's my time. Yet.." The chief swept his gaze over the silent coffins and ended his inspection of Janis' resting place. "My other comrades always manage to take the shots meant for me. It makes me angry. While I'm sure most of these people have done unpleasant things, I just feel…"

"Guilty."

"Yes."

"Like you said, Cleveland, you can't do anything about it. Our enemies killed them, not you. Don't let your guilt define you. Guilt and anguish dragged me down. Only by breaking out of those shackles did I finally obtained my freedom."

With that final piece of advice, Harry turned to leave the morgue. Cleveland stayed behind, letting his past memories play out in front of his eyes.

* * *

The passage to Io took almost seven weeks. The damage the _Eviscerator _sustained caused significant delays despite the best efforts of the house-elves. Over time, the sudden loss of crew caused a significant shift in the relations between the two dominant factions on the Evie. While Harry eventually learned to cope with Selner's absence, he confined himself in his quarters in order to meditate and contain the fragile balance between his magic and the curses that leeched his strength. His absence allowed others to operate freely.

Commander Claris and her pirate faction made some steady gains in converting disillusioned former slaves to their viewpoint. When it became known that it was the Exploration Society's fault that they had lost their comrades, a lot of crewmen lost faith in civilized society. That allowed Claris an opening, perverting their ideals into an intense hatred against the system.

The pacifist faction on the other hand was floundering now that they lacked clear leadership. While Lady Amande took up the mantle, she herself admitted she did not possess the zeal to pursue peace. Her highborn status was another wedge that separated her from the 'common folk'. Only with Professor Zhang's help did she retain some semblance of relations with the lower ranks.

The Evie only had one more day left before she passed the security perimeter of Io. Harry decided to call a meeting to determine the future of his command.

"Rysa. Amande. Zhang. Claris." Harry greeted the four that he invited along. They were his most senior advisers The decisions about to be formed in this room affected many important matters. That was why he left the junior officers out in order to encourage a deeper discussion.

"I have gathered you here because I want to hear some suggestions and advice regarding my future. We have two days left before the _Eviscerator _docks at Io. I wish to discuss what we will do next before we start preparations for our departure to Earth."

Claris spoke up first. "Reyder & Whitlock Shipyards has finished certifying the hybrid cruiser we commissioned from them. If you wish, we can station ourselves on the _Immortal Marauder _immediately."

"So she's ready." Harry grinned as he thought of the power he would soon wield. "Wicked."

While he'd rather have his magic restored, having a light cruiser under his command was an achievement that very few people could boast. It took four _Eviscerators _to comfortably defeat the _Immortal __Marauder_. The ship boasted a double layer of EM resistant plating, shielding the vessel against magic's greatest weakness. She featured two broadsides of six Class IX varilaser cannons while her bow carried four Class VIII varilaser demiturrets. Sixteen different point defense emplacements dotted around the ships, though they were predominantly Class V to cut expenses and keep their power consumption under control. While there wasn't enough space to mount a torpedo mount at the bow, the template design allowed a mount to be placed on her aft. The _Marauder_'s final feature was the hangar bay located at the lower decks. It held enough space for six strike craft and one small transport shuttle or boarding pod.

In sum, the _Immortal Marauder _was a swift and heavy-hitting powerhouse for her class. If Harry managed to magically reinforce her hull, then her relatively flimsy defense could be strengthened. However, there was one setback to that plan.

"I know that the _Marauder_'s hull is not that great in her current state. It will take me a minimum of three weeks of uninterrupted work to magically strengthen it. It's going to be tedious work, so I'll probably need plenty of rest in between."

Captain Rysa, who stayed out of the way in previous meetings, added her own thoughts. "It can't be helped, since it will take us at least a month to recruit and break in the spacers required to crew such a large ship. It won't be as easy as recruiting for the Evie, since we need non-commissioned officers, ensigns, lieutenants, the kind of quality crewmen you can't pick up from the street. The fact that we are hiring them for life once we induct them with magic won't help either."

"That reminds me," Zhang cut in. "If we move our operations to the cruiser, what will we do with the _Eviscerator_? Do you intend to take it with you to Earth, sir?"

"He can't. Io granted Harry one free passage through their Gravitic Catapult. He can only bring a single ship along."

This was a difficult decision. Harry had grown quite sentimental of the battle-proven mobile carrier. Yet, he knew he had to spend his resources carefully. Did he still need the Evie?

"If you intend to retain the _Eviscerator_, I'd be happy to captain it." Rysa volunteered. "I'm an experienced captain, and I can help you scout out James Selner, or raid some merchants in order to earn more prize money."

'_So that's Rysa's angle.'_ Claris thought silently as she briefly met the other captain's eyes. The former captain of the missile frigate _Arbalest_ had kept to the sidelines during her stay on the Evie. While her past record showed that she had been a vicious pirate, the female captain kept a healthy distance to everyone.

Harry mused a little. "As I've said before, I'm not comfortable with splitting up my command. I don't think it's time yet to divide my subjects. The chaos we suffered after our departure from Trindebal Station showed that I need more time to work new people in. And besides, I don't trust you yet with a ship, Rysa."

"Fair enough." The female captain nodded, barely looking disappointed that her gamble might have failed. "What will you do with the Evie then, if I may ask? If you're not taking her with you to Earth, or let someone else captain the ship in your name, what else do you have in mind?"

"Honestly? I guess either selling it or storing it somewhere out of the way. I like having it somewhere safe in case the _Marauder_ ever blows up, but I'm not sure keeping the Evie functional is the right choice."

"It's not worth the expense." Claris advised strongly. "The running costs for a cruiser is already high enough, and it will turn astronomical once she incurs heavy damage. We need as much capital in reserve to absorb possible setbacks. While I love the Evie as much as any crewman, we're better off selling it in order to reduce our expenses."

"But I thought we have plenty of credits left, even after ordering our new ship." Amande interjected. "Combined with the reward we will receive upon my safe arrival in Io - though subtracted by taxes and other expenses - we still have about seventy million credits left."

"You might think that's much, but one major engagement can drain that away, especially if a critical system is damaged. We need more reserves."

"Not necessarily. What we really need is more cash flow." Lady Amande tinkered with the holo projector and displayed some financial data. "I had Terry work up the accounting. It's disadvantageous if we keep such a high amount of credits idle. We should invest most of our liquid funds into assets that earn us a healthy return. This ensures our long-term viability and allow us to draw lines of credits in case we need to pay for critical repairs."

"What kind of investments do you suggest, Amande? You'll have to excuse me if I say that I'm rather leery buying stock." Harry drawled, a bit skeptical on the idea of going into business.

A small smirk grew on the lady's face. "Oh, actually I had nothing of the sort. I recommend you to invest your funds into real estate or private businesses. Perhaps you can start up a corporation where you can use some of your unique magical talents to provide a service that no other firm in Io can provide."

Claris groaned internally as Amande listed different investment opportunities. The little princess had finally made her move. By tying Harry's credits into a physical presence on Io, Amande could effectively tie him down and intertwine his destiny with her own. It made breaking off ties and going rogue a costly decision for Harry.

"Sir, I advise against spending your credits now. Despite your marriage with the Lady, we can't trust the House of Antares. Investing in their territory will only give them more leverage to force your decisions later on. We have to keep our earnings in reserve in order to stay on our feet and stay unbeholden to any other power."

Her words had a marked effect on Harry's disposition. If there was one thing he hated, it was losing control.

Just when it seemed Harry would reject Amande, Professor Zhang intervened. "Perhaps we can do both. We can keep the seventy million credits at the Frontier Bank while using the earnings from the sale of the _Eviscerator_ to fund a new business on Io. It doesn't have to be anything big at first. I recommend you start something small that can benefit from the skills of our crew. There are.. a handful of crewmen who are plainly unfit for further duty aboard a ship, either through injury, stress, or lack of skill. Obviously we can't let them go, but if we can offer them a position ashore as a sort of retirement option, we can solve several problems at once. We can show that we care for our crew and that they have options even if they are crippled beyond repair. And that doesn't even count the material benefits of having a headquarters at a fixed location."

"That's a very good idea Zhang. I love it. I doubt thirty million credits can do very much, but we can at least offer some of our more ineffective crew members an alternative. Hmmm…"

"I'd suggest starting a small repair yard, one that we can develop slowly to handle cruiser-class ships over time. If successful, we can reduce our repair costs drastically, and allow us to work on the _Immortal Marauder_ with magic. You can also transfer some house-elves to the business in order to rapidly increase our repair capability."

"I see you've put a lot of thought in this Zhang. No wonder you're a professor. Your suggestion is very much appreciated." He turned to the other participants with a smile. "Unless someone has a better alternative, I'll go for his plan."

No one objected. Rysa didn't care. Amande wanted a larger commitment, but was glad enough for this option. Only Claris disliked the suggestion, but knew she couldn't offer a better alternative. _'At least Harry intends to keep most of his money safe.'_

"Well, with that settled, I'd like to move on to the matter of the House of Antares. Lady Amande," Harry turned to face the girl directly. "What does the House expect of me. What do _you_ expect of me, for that matter? I can imagine our forced marriage hasn't made anyone in your family very pleased."

"That's put rather mildly." The Lady admitted honestly, and flashed a friendly smile. "I've already forgiven you, Harry, but my relatives won't be as easy to win over."

"We don't need to win over your entire fucking family tree." Claris snorted. "Harry just needs you to keep them off his back."

"We can't ignore all my relatives." The young girl shot back. "If we do that, they can make our lives hell. It's absolutely critical that we develop an understanding with certain key figures within our House."

"So which of your relatives do we need to kiss up then?"

"Well obviously we need to allay the suspicions of the Dictat himself. Once he's assured that I'm happy and safe he'll probably turn to more pressing matters. His second son, Wellesley Antares, is someone we definitely need to butter up, since he heads the Ioan Navy. He won't be easy to get in touch with, but if we earn his favor it can help us a long way."

"Hm, that's not too burdensome. I doubt that's the end of it, but I guess it's a good idea to have both of the relatives you mentioned in our pockets. Are there any other prominent relatives that we should take into account?"

"I'm not sure.. I might have a few overprotective cousins who will seek to.. eliminate you quietly. But that will be difficult to do without upsetting the trust that a marriage into our House conveys. We'll need to cultivate more allies in order to shield you from such retribution. I think my parents and grandparents will be able to help with that. They'll be more understanding with me I hope, although I'm not sure how blinded they will be in their overprotective streak."

"Politics, how troublesome." Harry sighed.

"Troublesome, but necessary." The Lady added. "Helpful even, if you consider that they may be of aid in your endeavors."

After that, the discussion turned to recruitment. They needed about five hundred spacers to crew the _Immortal Marauder_ to optimal levels. This was a huge difference to the seventy able-bodied crewmen on the _Eviscerator_. The vast majority of the new crew would therefore have to be new recruits. That worried Harry, because most of them would doubtlessly share a strong common identity to Io, and not to him. Also, most of the new officers required to organize these vast ranks had to be brought in from the outside, as no one else besides Rysa and Claris were decent officer material.

"I really don't get it." Harry murmured, already getting a headache on this issue. "We have plenty of bridge officers already, and I'm sure we can promote some of our senior enlisted personnel."

Rysa and Claris gave Harry their usual 'you-know-nothing-about-commanding-ships' look. It was a look every officer made when faced with a stupid question from a civilian.

"Captain, there is a marked difference between technical officers and command officers, and another difference between commissioned and enlisted." Claris explained. "In some cases this divide can be closed, but frankly, none of our current crew is ready for a real command. We need specific types of officers, and NCOs for that matter, in order to ensure a smooth chain of command."

"Alright, I give up. You know more about this than I do. But we still suffer from the same constraints that stymied our recruitment effort at Trindebal. Four hundred new spacers will be hard to come by."

"We can fill up the lower positions easily enough. It's the upper positions that will provide us with the most difficulty. The kind of officers and senior enlisted that we need have plenty of berths on safer or more reputable ships. It will be hard for us to compete. We will need to entice promising spacers with a compelling incentive."

No one really had a good idea yet. "I guess we'll figure something out when we get there."

"I think Wellesley can assign us some of the reserves of the Expeditionary Fleet if we develop good relations with him and some other figures in the navy."

"I'd doubt he would be so generous after a few toasts, but it's worth a shot."

The meeting wound down after a technical discussion on which roles needed to be filled. With nothing else of importance to discuss before their arrival to Io, the participants adjourned. Along the way to his quarters, Harry couldn't contain his anxiety.

'_What will I encounter at Io? Will I receive a fairly friendly reception, or will the House of Antares do everything they can to destroy me?'_

* * *

If Europa was defined by ice and water, Io was almost its complete opposite. The planetary body's highly unique features all centered around earth and fire. A terrestrial moon half the size of Earth, Io appeared to be a regular dust rock at first. Yet as the moon closest to Jupiter, the extreme gravitational pressures along with the interaction with the other big moons caused the moon to generate an enormous amount of heat due to tidal friction. Hundreds of active volcanoes dotted the moon, and regular changes in gravity spurred the moon to eject massive amounts of sulfuric dust.

As the entire surface was a hazard, not many city-colonies were established on its surface. The few that existed were special moving domes that acted as specialized mining platforms, hunting for valuable minerals left behind by dormant volcanoes. But unlike Europa, Io didn't settle most of her population on the volatile moon.

The real heart of Io orbited around it in the form of orbital colonies and space stations. The constant volcanic eruptions caused huge plumes of dust to float, and combined with the gravitational interaction with other lunar bodies expanded into huge planet-sized 'rivers' of dust leading away in different directions. These dust rivers provided the vicinity of the moon with excellent concealment, allowing entire ships and colonies to stay hidden from view. It was said that no single human being knew just how large the Ioan Navy was. People only had vague estimates of on the composition of its strategic battle fleet.

Part desert, part volcanic, Io was nevertheless a nation of industry. Its vast resources made it a prominent nexus of trade. The lunar nation's sole Gravity Catapult was in constant activity as shipping convoys traveled from and to the planet of dust, transporting raw materials and finished goods to all the corners of the solar system.

Harry sat on the captain's seat on the bridge. Together with Claris and Amande they cleared customs and smoothed over the initial wrinkles. They passed on their logs of the battle against the _Mirrored Abyss_, and told the naval officers on the other side of the line that they could have done nothing to save the liner that escorted some of Io's highest diplomats.

A new contact chose to appear at that moment.

"Cousin!" Amande gasped.

"My dear niece." The opulently dressed man addressed imperiously. "How.. lovely to see you again. We shall have to catch up." The handsome but hard-eyes man turned his attention to Harry. "And here is the 'hero' of the day, our loyal spy, the one who saved the Non-Agression Pact with Europa, not to mention my niece, and valiantly asked her hand in marriage. It provides me with much relief that you have managed to save Amande from a vicious pirate ambush. Well done."

Harry got the hint. This was an open communication channel, and there was no telling who might have cracked the encryption and listened in at this very moment. He had to stick to the cover story that the Ioan officials had hammered out for him to hide the fact that he essentially blackmailed the House of Antares into marriage.

"My apologies, but you have me at a disadvantage." The wizard replied as smoothly as he could. If only he could meet the snobby prick in person. At least he would be able to get a feel for the man's emotions.

"You, my boy, have the pleasure of meeting Wellesley of the House Antares, Fleet Admiral of the Ioan Navy and the fourth in line to the position of Dictat."

The captain's eyes widened as he realized this was one of Amande's relatives that he had to buddy-buddy with. _'Merlin, I've only seen a minute of him and I'm already getting a pureblood vibe out of him.'_

The noble in question merely raised an eyebrow at Harry's silence. The corners of his finely sculpted mouth lowered just a tiny fraction. "I am sure we will get acquainted later. I shall dispatch a ceremonial escort to one of our repair berths, as befitting a war hero of your stature. Please follow their instructions and do _not _stray from your assigned path. Is that clear, _Captain_ Harry?"

"Yeah. Sure. I got it." Harry mumbled, still overwhelmed by Wellesley's exuding presence.

"One more thing, my dear _cousin-in-law._ Expect to be received with full honors when your ship is docked at our station. Please change your attire from your current archaic fashion to one befitting a starship captain. Lady Amande should be able to assist if you are.. lacking in refinement. It wouldn't do for the media to publish an image of you in your _rags_."

"Yes. Sir." Harry growled out, livid that the highborn had the temerity to insult his battle robes. He had fought over a century in this garb! His gear deserved much better. Still, he knew he couldn't reach out and _Crucio_ the dickhead. So with a – hopefully authentic looking smile – he nodded. "A pleasure meeting you, admiral."

"Likewise, captain. Wellesley, out."

The captain stayed silent on his seat. He still steamed over Wellesley's words. Ever so slowly, he turned towards Amande. "Wellesley is a dick. There's no way I'm going to befriend him."

"Harry.. he's just a little peeved. Let me take a few days to explain the situation. I'm _sure_ he'll win you over once he sees you're not all that bad."

"Pigs will fly before that will happen."

Surrounded by a 'ceremonial escort' of six cruisers and twelve destroyers, the squadron firmly guided the tiny _Eviscerator_ towards a military station. The docking bay enveloped the mobile carrier, securing the ship and preventing her escape. Io had finally come to welcome Harry.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	29. I: A House United - Repost

March 18, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_A House United_

* * *

A glass of water rested on the table.

Selner looked at it dispassionately, refusing to reach out for thirst-quenching liquid.

She merely sat in the clean, white room. All the walls were white. There was no door or window. Despite the absence of any other visible object, she knew that millions of cameras and sensors were observing her every move, twitch, scratch and pupil direction.

Let them watch.

The woman waited. One hour passed. Two hours passed. Three hours passed.

The hours ticked by without change. The thirst grew in her throat, but still she left the glass alone.

An uncounted number of hours passed before she fell asleep.

Only to wake up in the same white room with the same glass of water on the table.

So the clock ticked on. Selner refused to play her captor's game. She was sure that James and whoever else was in on her kidnapping were observing her keenly and extrapolating her entire mental condition.

Pathetic.

She raised one of her hands to scratch the Mark embedded near her elbow. She could feel its glowing warmth soothe her worried soul. As long as it remained imprinted on her being, she would always be connected to the wizard.

James had no claim on her anymore. She was Harry's now. With that thought, she coyly smiled. Her former husband would have surely noted it by now.

'_Come, James, and face me like a man.'_

* * *

"ATTEN-HUT!"

The cavernous repair bay thundered in the echo of hundred armored boots. Though Harry expect some pomp, he hadn't imagined the sheer scale of his public welcome. Rows and rows of marines in resplendent white battle armor stood before him. Their neat lines, bulky armor and heavy guns conferred a very militaristic grandeur for the reporters standing behind the line. As his wife led him down the ramp, he tried to walk as dignified as he could in the silly getup Amande had foisted upon him. He felt like an absolute fop for wearing the formfitting suit with golden digital symbols streaming down the surface. He had no pocket to hide his gun, or even his wand for that matter. He was truly naked to the world.

"It's alright Harry. Just smile for the cameras. We'll be out of the public soon after the press conference."

"P-Press conference?!"

"Of course. My granduncle's government want to milk as much publicity as they can from this charade. I suggest you play your part. It might start putting you into my family's good graces."

The captain glowered a little. He played the obedient hero plenty of times for the Wizarding World! Only the presence of his wife allowed him to bear this excruciating agony. The young woman wore a vacsuit much like his own that matched his running symbols. Gazing briefly at her, Harry admired how she handled public pressure with ease. He also couldn't help but glance down at her lithe dancer's body. The highborn girl maintained a very fit physique.

He averted his eyes. He wasn't ready yet for another woman, and current events required his utmost attention.

Two figures waited at the foot of the ramp. Lord Wellesley, wearing a refined ensemble that could barely be called a vacsuit, came up to shake Harry's hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Captain Harry Antares. May I please introduce Lieutenant Commander Rigel Vanmar, my aide-de-camp."

"A pleasure." Harry forced out as pleasantly as he could.

"Good. Let us meet the press, shall we? And please do not embarrass yourself."

The married couple followed the naval officers along the ranks of the Ioan marines and towards the podium set up to address the media. Harry was surprised to spot more than fifty reporters and an even larger gathering of bystanders. Was his entrance _that_ big of a deal?

His companion could feel his anxiety. Amande smiled a little at Harry's bewilderment. "Io is hungry for heroics, you know. The population is quite fatigued with the current state of intermittent war. You've done something dashing by saving the diplomatic delegation that secured the pact. The agreement has already brought us hope and increased security. If all goes well, Europa and Io might develop an alliance and break the current stalemate, and it's all thanks to you."

"Really? I thought the Non-Agression Pact was nothing more than an empty piece of paper to prevent the situation from going worse. Aren't the two powers going to continue to snipe at each other in the shadows?"

"Oh, certainly, but it won't be so severe. Io has constantly fended off three different neighboring powers. Having one less determined enemy makes a material difference in the war effort."

They've reached the podium by now. The fleet admiral took the stage at first and gave a grand speech about Harry's fake background and exploits before digressing to the good he had done for Io. The crowd applauded when Wellesley masterfully retold Harry's heroics. He finally passed the word on to the hero himself.

Immediately the reporters crowded closer, trying to get a good shot and pressing him with questions.

"Are you a native Ioan?" "Which school did you graduate from?" "Did you grow up on a station or down the surface?" "What's your favorite color?" "Is it true that this is all a vast conspiracy theory meant to hide the fact that Solardyne has taken control over Io?"

The mass off questions that assaulted him was overwhelming. Amande had to steady him and take the word. "My apologies, gentlemen, but I am afraid that my husband is not accustomed to publicity." A few chuckles rang around the chamber. "Captain Harry has dedicated his life to the safety of our nation, and he has served beyond anyone's expectation."

Harry managed to answer some of the easy the questions after he recovered some of his poise. While he felt no pleasure being at the center of attention, he knew that his performance affected his relationship with the House of Antares and the rest of Io.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. That will be enough for now." Lord Wellesley intervened, and ended the small ceremony before escorting the pair to a luxurious hovercar.

As soon as the doors clicked shut, the fleet admiral dropped his smile. "Now then 'Captain' Harry, tell me why I shouldn't order my bodyguards to shoot you in the head."

The boy tried to keep himself as calm as possible and suppressed the rage that swelled within him.

"Well sir, you could make something happen to me, but is it worth the price?"

"No price is too great for the happiness of my niece."

"Cousin! Stop this at once!" Amande thrust herself in the conversation. "Before you go playing your games on Harry, try to hear my side of the story first."

"What is there to hear? You've been captured by this ill-bred pirate and threatened your life in order to force himself in our noble House. His very presence in this colony is an eyesore for us. Did he hurt you in any way?"

"No. He hasn't touched me—"

"Good. At least he held on to the terms to the contract. But that doesn't mean it is beneficial to continue with this arrangement."

"Hey asshole," Harry growled, having quite enough of hearing the prat treat him like a rat. "Don't treat Amande like a kid. She's old enough to make her own decisions, and she made the decision to enter into a marriage with me herself. If you just shut your fucking trap and let her explain, she'll tell you that she's quite happy with the arrangement."

The fleet admiral's perfectly composed face seemed to crack. His mouth twitched a little. "I-Is that so? Amande, are you happy with this foul-mouthed, ill-bred brute over a refined Europan noble as your spouse?"

"Yes, Lord Wellesley." Amande sighed. "He's not that bad."

"We'll see. We will have to isolate you and run you through a complete medical check. There's no telling what sort of physical or psychological pressure you've been through."

Harry glowered throughout the trip to the naval headquarters as Amande and Wellesley verbally sparred against each other. He tuned out and leaned his head against the window. Lagobar Station was one of many orbital cities anchored around Io. While it was a predominantly military station that catered to the navy, it boasted a modest amount of people who made their livelihoods by servicing spacers. They passed streets containing shops, hotels, gun stores, and all manner of items that he had also spotted on Trindebal. There was even a store devoted to crossbows, and it appeared quite busy.

The tired captain looked at the building ahead of him. The fleet headquarters featured a peculiar architectural design that revolved around discrete blocky shapes and digitized decorations. It looked akin to a palace, if not for the Pac-man-inspired look.

'_How did I end up in this situation?'_

He needed power, of course. In order to reach Earth and retrieve his precious magical cache, he needed a crew, a ship, and the backing of Io. This modern environment wasn't anything like Earth back in the 21st century, where he could mingle with the muggles and stay self-sufficient in pretty much all his needs. The future was much more complex. Humanity had done what witches and wizards have never achieved; escape the boundaries of Earth and colonize the entire solar system. The muggles had surpassed the Wizarding World in many wondrous ways. While a magical such as himself could still perform many miracles, the gap between a wizard and a mundane was not so large anymore.

'_Humanity has come a long way with technology. When will the muggles surpass finally us? Have they already surpassed us?'_

By then, the hovercar arrived at its destination. The passengers stepped out. Lord Wellesley motioned his guards and they all entered the base.

"This is where we will split up for the moment." The admiral announced. "Both of you will undergo an extensive medical examination. This is especially important for you, captain, since we need your exact bio-metric data to solidify your fake identity. The examination will last until supper, where we will meet to discuss your.. future."

The wizard wanted to snarl, but knew better. He nodded obediently and let himself be guided away to an isolated part of the base where the Ioans would take a lot of samples and test his body. He felt a slight worry that these muggle physicians might discover that he was a magical. While Dr. Selner assured him that none of his blood or tissue showed anything odd, she only had access to basic tests. There was no telling what the Ioans might find out.

'_I've got to stay calm and deal with this circus. I'm only going to stay here long enough until I'm ready to leave for Earth. If they find out I'm a wizard, I'll never be allowed to leave. I won't let them turn me into a freak like those psi-ops.'_

* * *

Amande's medical examination went on fairly briskly. The physicians already held her data and were only checking her for any diseases and signs of abuse. They found – to their great relief – that she had been treated well. The only anomaly they could find was her unbalanced hormone levels, but that was to be expected when faced with stress.

Lord Wellesley waited for her outside the examination room. He smirked. "Now I finally have you for myself. Let me lead you to somewhere quiet and safe."

He guided her to a sealed conference room. Once inside, he dismissed his guards. He then activated the security options embedded within the room. A variety of privacy and anti-spying measures came online. Only when he activated all of the settings available to him did he relax.

"Amande, oh how I missed you." The man went up to his niece and took her in a hug. "When I had let you join the diplomatic delegation, I knew the risks were high."

"It's alright Wells." The young woman caressed her older cousin's hand. "The delegation succeeded, and I came back alive."

"Alive, but shackled by that uncouth brute."

The girl dug her nails into her cousin's hand. "Stop thinking as if I'm unwillingly bound to him. You have _no_ idea at all what kind of person Harry is and how useful he is to our House."

Amande indignantly shook off her cousin's arms and stood up to face him with her conviction. "I've told you this before and I'll tell it to you again: stay away from my life. You haven't seen anything about Harry yet."

"I have seen enough of him to recognize he is trouble! I've studied missing records, his pirate career, his eccentric fashion and his lack of etiquette with care. There is not a single redeeming aspect of him. If you'd just get your head away from your misguided romantic notions, you will see that this is all a mistake."

The admiral went to the table and retrieved a single plastic sheet that rested on its surface. He passed it to Amande.

"I have here the order to authorize a covert assassination on the man. He is alone, isolated and right in our clutches. I already have four different assassins lying in wait and a company of our finest marines guarding this entire complex. Let me sign this order and allow me to eliminate the pirate from our lives. I already have an impersonator ready to mimic his appearance in order to avoid unrest and keep the illusion of marriage going for a few years."

The princess stared at the sheet in horror. "How _dare _you?!"

She slapped her cousin full in the face and snatched the sheet from his hands. She tried to snap it in two, only to curse its strength. After a few seconds of struggle she gave up and threw it into the garbage chute.

"Wellesley."

"Y-yes?" The admiral replied feebly as he rubbed his palm over his cheek. No one had _ever_ hurt him like that except his parents.

"Look at me."

He did.

"Do I look sad? Unhappy? Miserable?"

She looked angry. "Well no, but—"

"The only emotion that I feel right now is _anger_ at my idiot cousin doing everything he can but make me happy! I don't need you meddling in my life like this. I can take care of myself, thank you very much! If you really want to protect me, then you should stop trying to figure out ways to eliminate Harry."

Though thoroughly chastised, Wellesley wasn't about to give up. "Do you love him?"

A short pause settled in the conference room as Amande juggled with the question. "It's.. complicated. Do I love him in the sense my mother loves my father? No. It's just too early for me to form such feelings. Still.. even though I have distressingly little in common with Harry, I think the potential is there. I.. I just need more time."

The girl turned around and moved for the exit. "I think I've heard enough of you, cousin. I'm leaving, and I'm taking Harry with me."

"But we still have dinner tonight, and we have to finish Captain Harry's paperwork—"

"I don't even want to be in the same room as you. You're despicable, you know that? I'll be having dinner elsewhere."

"But where will you go?"

"To my parents. I don't have the best of relationships with them, but I'm certain they'll be more _welcoming_ than you, little cousin."

The fleet admiral watched the woman go. _'When did she become so assertive?'_ Seeing his normally shy and gentle niece behave with such conviction baffled him. She was only away for a few months, yet she came back a changed woman.

But no matter what her desires may be, the interests of Io and the House still came first. Lord Wellesley prayed Amande still remembered that, for if not, she had to be eliminated along with the upstart captain.

'_We make our own victory.'_

* * *

The medical examination proceeded extremely uncomfortably for Harry. He had always been a fairly private person, and to have half a dozen strangers touch and observe his body made him fidgety. They took his blood, a swab of his saliva, some skin shavings and even a clipped toenail. They measured him, scanned him through a series of machines which purpose he had no idea and forced him to undergo basic tests such as lifting weights.

A certain request made him draw the line. When an attendant approached him with a cup and asked for his semen sample, he punched the idiot in the face.

The tension went up immediately, but at least the lab rats hurried the procedure. It took a good hour for him to finally get away.

"Harry. You're done, good. Come, let's go meet my parents."

The pair went for the exits unopposed. Harry raised his eyebrow. "I thought we'd be kissing Wellesley's ass."

"He's a prat and I've had enough of him." Amande let out firmly. "We don't need his support directly. I'll just convince my parents and they can lean on Wellesley to lay off on his silly attempt to assassinate you."

"He's planning _what?!_" Harry growled. "The bastard!"

The woman groaned at her slip-up. Making Wellesley Harry's enemy was _not _a good idea. "Hush now, I've put a stop to that for now, but in order to keep others from having the same idea we really need to introduce you to the family as an asset. So _please_, don't do anything rash."

"I won't promise anything." Was all he gave. Harry glowered a little as Amande called up an escort to take them to the transit terminal. Her parents resided on a different station, and it would take them an hour or two to reach their mansion.

Along the way, he questioned Amande about how Wellesley planned to kill him and get away with the act. Harry was a bit surprised at the technology that allowed someone to mimic another person, but he should have expected that the future solved that problem easily. He went on to ask Amande about the House of Antares.

"Well, we aren't a big house per se. There's my granduncle Leopold, the Dictat of Io. He's really, really old, but he still has his wiles. I'm still trying to set up an appointment with him but lately he's very tired. He had three sons, but the eldest and youngest died in a war a long time ago, so it's a very touchy subject to him. Leopold's surviving heir is Lord Halcyon, who's a retired prime minister of Io. He's now taken over most of his father's duty as the effective head of his house. You already know Halcyon's second son Wellesley, but his firstborn daughter is the current prime minister."

"What about your own branch of the family?"

"Well it's nothing special really. I'm the granddaughter of Leopold's brother, who passed away a long while ago. I'm the only daughter of the third-born son. My two aunts have loads of children so I have practically no chance of inheriting the House."

"Hmmm." The wizard considered Amande's description. "It sounds like the main branch of the family is much smaller than the side branch."

The Lady nodded. "Others find it odd as well, but my father said those in the main branch are under a lot of pressure and sometimes have anything other than offspring in mind. The side branches have much more freedom to do whatever they want. My aunts love children, but my father is happy enough with just me." She shrugged. "They love me, but they're more occupied with themselves. It's one of the reasons why I signed up to the diplomatic delegation to Europa. I wanted to make my own mark in the world."

Amande was a royal, yet she would never rule Io. The only way she could make her life more meaningful was to spread her wings and leave her nest.

She was lucky Harry caught her. A sudden impulse made her reach out to Harry and hug him. He seemed uncomfortable, and sat as still as a brick. Disappointed, the lady withdrew and recomposed herself. "I'm sorry. I don't know what caught up to me for a moment there."

The pair endured the transit to Antares Station in uncomfortable silence.

* * *

Antares Station was the capital station of Io. The House itself made its residence here, and ran the national government from the countless of institutions spread across the public districts. Compared to the military station they had just left, Harry noticed Antares Station was much more expansive. The structures that dotted the internal landscape were also more elaborate.

His wife had called a private taxi reserved for nobles and ordered it to head to the only private district in the station, the place where the House of Antares along with several of its vassal houses made their residence.

"Vassel houses?" The wizard asked. He briefly cast his memory back to the Wizarding World. If Io's politics was anything like the Wizarding World's version of it, then he'd probably be tempted to kill them all.

"The Houses are the consolidated descendants of the first investors and settlers of Io. My own House doesn't rule the nation of Io with an iron fist, you know. The other Houses are there to keep us in check, I suppose. I once asked my father why we simply don't get rid of them. He merely pointed to Mercury and Ganymede as an example how well that would go. For better or worse, we need the other Houses to keep the support of the people and maintain a prosperous economy. The vassal Houses are simply those who have aligned themselves to our coalition. Every odd generation or so a distant branch member from our House will marry into them in order to keep up relations."

She expanded on a few other nuances before they arrived at her parent's mansion. "Home at least."

Her parents were already waiting for her outside the entrance. Amande had obviously gotten her blond hair from her mother, whose resplendent tresses curled in a stream of dazzling gold. The woman smiled in a restrained but warm manner at the sight of her daughter, but turned a little uneasy when she passed her eyes over her companion. Amande's father on the other hand stood sternly, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. He only had his eyes on Harry.

"Amande! Welcome home my dear."

The two women both ran to each other and enveloped themselves in a hug. While the women started to catch up with each other, the father approached Harry coolly.

"So this is the man who married my daughter."

If Amande's dad was planning on doing the angry parent routine, he'd have another thing coming. Harry matched his glare with his own. "So I have. Who are you?"

"Lord Blanton. My wife is Lady Sanac."

The man didn't say anything else besides that. Instead of insulting him for his low birth or violent occupation, the man simply nodded and jerked his head inside the mansion. Puzzled, Harry followed him inside, with the two women following after them.

"We have the dining room prepared. Come."

They took a seat at an expansive but comfortable table for four. Amande's parents took a seat at one end, while Harry and his wife took the other end. To Harry's relief, the food on the plate looked distinctly normal. Marinated chicken, slices of duck, a selection of beans or potatoes, everything looked just like it did back home.

"I hope you will enjoy this meal, Lord Harry. They are all genuinely Earth-grown. They are Amande's favorite."

"I'm a lord now?" The boy blurted out, drawing startled glances from the older pair.

"You did not know?" The father spoke incredulously. "That is what marriage to the House of Antares entails. You _become_ one of us. All of the privileges that we enjoy are yours as well. Your elevation to a noble title is but a small boon."

The two parents looked at each other silently as their facial expressions went through a rapid series of changes. Harry felt the tension in the air begin to lessen somehow.

Amande chose to illuminate what her parents were doing. "They're communicating with each other through their neural implants."

"I thought implants were banned because they were so easy to hack!"

"That is true." Lady Sanac conceded. "But the House of Antares is not without resources. As a noble, if you want something bad enough, you will get it. Rules are easy to circumvent, and we are not that worried about outside interference. We update our implants weekly. Nothing is impossible."

The mood grew tense again, and the four ate silently for several minutes. Harry digested the information. How deep was their neural connection? Did they merely shared what they wanted to say, or did they also share deeper thoughts? The wizard couldn't imagine living like that, sharing everything you knew in order to forge a deeper bond with your spouse. He turned to his own wife and saw that she kept her head down.

The boy narrowed his eyes. He stared at each of the three, all eating silently.

'_Is my wife talking silently to her parents? Has she been secretly talking to them all this time?'_

"Do you also have one of those implants, Amande? Are you connected in their network?"

A flare of anger burst from her mind. "No." She spat out vehemently as her mood went into a complete 180 degree turn. "I would _never_ change myself into this."

"Have some decorum Amande! Do not speak openly about such matters in front of a guest."

"He's my _husband_, mom, not just a guest. If you two are so willing to share your secrets with each other, won't you at least let _me_ do the same?!"

"Words are subject to distortion." Her father spoke up calmly, as if he had said that particular phrase a thousand times before. "Thoughts come directly from the heart."

"Oh don't give me the words vs thoughts sermon again, dad." The young girl dropped her utensils and shoved away her plate. "I'll _never_ change into a freak."

And with that, she stood up and stomped away. "I'll be in my room!"

The remaining three people in the dining room sat silently. To the parents, it seemed they had heard it all before as they didn't look upset or anything. Unlike them, Harry was completely surprised by the brief interaction. He always imagined Amande to be a spoiled little princess with the perfect life but naive about the world. This entire day showed him many new glimpses of a very different woman.

'_Still, as much as Amande could learn to be more firm, this is the second time she's erupted in front of those who we're trying to get help from. We can't go on like this.'_

To be honest, Harry supposed he didn't want to work with Wellesley either, but Amande's parents behaved decently enough. He hardly figured anyone else in the stuck-up family even considered giving him the time of day, so he resolved himself to seize the opportunity.

"Lord Blanton. Lady Sanac. I wish to.. discuss some business with you."

Blanton sighed and swabbed his mouth with an autocleaning napkin. "Since our dinner has been so thoroughly spoiled, we might as well get to it. Very well, what is it that you require?"

"Well, I'm sure you know of me already—"

"Yes yes, elite sleeper agent, hero who stopped the ambush on the diplomatic delegation, rewarded with my daughter's hand in marriage. All of it a fabrication, of course. We are well aware of the truth that lies underneath."

"How do you feel about me?"

"What I— _we_, feel about you cannot be expressed in a handful of words." Blanton frown increased ever so slightly. "And even if we are able to make a passable attempt, we are certainly not volunteering."

The wizard grew more frustrated at the constant wordplay. Were all members of the House of Antares this difficult to talk to? Yet he had to forge on, knowing that he needed their support.

"Look, I've had a long day dealing with Wellesley's hostility, and I'm quite sure that will not be the end of it. The fact of the matter is that my marriage with Lady Amande is ruffling a lot of feathers in your House and we need your help in defusing their anger."

"_We_, you say?" Lady Sanac interjected. "Are you suggesting that Lady Amande has no objection to her sudden betrothal to you?"

"Did she ever look unwilling? She's your own daughter, you should know."

Sanac's lips formed into a sneer. "As you've seen, my daughter and us have a rather.. turbulent relationship. I do not know every thought that comes into her mind." Then she muttered, "Not yet, anyhow."

"Surely you must have received some calls about us from Wellesley, right? Did he tell you that she wants to keep our marriage going?"

"We have been fielding calls from every member of this House, Lord Wellesley included. He has been rather.. persistent in the need to reeducate our wayward daughter."

"Don't you dare listen to that prick and touch her." Harry hissed, suddenly feeling oddly protective of her wife. "She's not your plaything." He almost went to add that she belonged to him, but he had enough control to stop that impulse.

Instead of turning angry or look admonished, Lord Blanton merely crossed his arms and leaned backwards against his seat. "Do not worry, young man. We have pressured our daughter many times, and the only result we've achieved is scaring her away. We've learned our lesson."

"Besides, we do not need to force our daughter anymore. We have you."

"Why the hell would I force her to do something even I'm not comfortable with?" Harry spat back as he couldn't believe how heartless Amande's parents were. _'These guys are right up there with the Dursleys for Merlin's sake!'_

"From the calls we've received from Lord Wellesley and others, we gather that you two are rather eager in making them call off their schemes to get rid of you." Blanton explained. "Well, we can certainly get our entire House to reconsider, and accept you as a member."

"You only have to do one task in return." Sanac continued smoothly. "Convince our daughter that it is in her best interest to have the mental connection implant installed."

So that was it, Harry thought. No namecalling, no threats to his life, no claims of taking Amande away for her own protection. They didn't regard him as a threat. They couldn't care less who her daughter married. Instead, her parents saw him as a means to force something vile on their daughter.

They were absolutely despicable.

"If you would do that for us, Lord Harry, then we are in your debt. We will gladly call off our family and provide you with the protection to need. Not that you will live long enough to benefit. Privateering is, after all, a dangerous occupation, and you will meet your end soon enough. At least you will have served your purpose in that case."

It was a difficult decision. Normally he'd just say yes and force Amande to undergo the procedure. However, having her thoughts open and vulnerable to the world was very dangerous, particularly since it wouldn't keep his magic secret.

"There's no way that she'll agree to share her thoughts with you." Harry said frankly. "There's nothing I can do that will make her change her mind."

"Who said it would be _us_ she will open her mind to? I know Amande does not hold us in the highest regard. In her current state, she will not enjoy baring such thoughts to us. No, we know better than that. Instead, we have a different offer."

"Our offer is this," Lord Blanton said. "If both you and Amande install an implant, we will provide all the protection you need against the threats to your life by the House of Antares."

"We want the both of you connected to each other in order to warm our daughter to the experience. Once she learns how beneficial the implant is, she will no doubt ask to add us to her network." Lady Sanac looked very self-assured in her claims. Her nose crinkled slightly as she regarded Harry with a cool eye. "I suppose there's no helping in letting you in as well, but as long as my daughter is happy, we will endure the discomfort."

"This is our final offer. Take it or leave it. You have one day to consider our offer. If she still refuses, then I will call in the assassination squads myself."

"We have no use for you if you cannot control Amande."

Dinner was pretty spoiled after that. Harry left the room as quickly as he could, and asked a maid to guide him to Amande's room. As he was being guided upwards, he couldn't help but consider the offer. Oh he hated it. He hated having his mind messed around. He hated having a vulnerability in his brain that could be hijacked at any moment. He also hated the fact that Amande's parents put him up to this. There were many things he could forgive because he had done it himself. Rape, pillage, murder, and even genocide was okay.

But if there was one thing in the world that he _hated _with every fiber of his life, it was bad parenting.

And now Amande's own parents wanted him to be complicit in that act.

'_If only… this is too frustrating! I really need the protection, and this looks like the best shot I have in getting it. If I refuse their offer, will I have another chance?'_

Then he remembered their threat of calling in assassins themselves. It seemed they had anticipated his thoughts, and cut him off beforehand. They were much more devious than they appeared.

'_The House of Antares is full of snakes.'_ He thought with a grim expression as he reached Amande's room. Breathing deeply, he knocked.

Harry had one day to make a decision.

* * *

**End notes:** Removed.


	30. I: The Occluded Road - Repost

March 21, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Occluded Road_

* * *

"They've always been like this, you know." Amande muttered to Harry as he entered her expansive bedroom.

The walls exuded a soft pink sensation of moving leaves. Stuffed animals were everywhere – A giant teddy bear at one corner, some kind of freaky alien in another, and a whole pile of smaller animals were stuffed at one corner. The double bed itself had an entire row of matching cats resting on the headboard.

The girl herself sat despondently on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. She clutched her legs and rested her head on them. "I hate them. I hate the way they never let me in their lives. To them, everyone they can't mindread are outsiders. They treat me as if I'm some sort of toy for them to do as they wish."

Harry carefully approached her and sat himself on the edge of her luxurious bed. The sheets were enormously soft, and he had to suppress the urge to snuggle them. He had a job to do.

"Amande.. I spoke to them earlier, after you left. They offered me a deal."

She didn't respond. Eyes closed, mouth open, it was as if she was asleep. Still Harry pressed on.

"They won't offer me protection from your other relatives unless we offer them something in return. They.. they want us to install the mental communication implants."

Again, she didn't respond. Harry was growing more frustrated by the minute. _'What is it with these Antares? Can't a single one of them be normal for once?'_

He reached out and touched her leg to rock her a little. "Hey, I'm talking to you." When she still didn't move, he began to push her a little harder, until she fell sideways on her bed. Amande merely curled more into herself.

"This is no time to idle." He hissed as he climbed further into the bed to pry Amande open. "They told me that we have only one day before they call in the assassins. We need to make a decision."

Eventually, Harry managed to pry her knees off her chest. In order to prevent her from curling back in he hopped over her body and pressed his weight on her thighs. Amande weakly fought back with her fists but Harry easily caught them and pressed them against her mattress.

"Amande! Talk to me!"

Her eyes slowly opened. She coolly regarded Harry's form. "What is there to talk? You're towering over me. You can do whatever you want to me." The girl averted her head and looked defeated. "Take me now, if you want. I know you want to. You haven't let yourself loose in weeks."

"This is not the time, Amande." Harry retorted firmly, though at least a small part of him did grew a bit excited. He tried to ignore the urge as best he could. He had to safeguard his life first. The rest could come later. "I don't know anything about these implants and I'm not sure what the consequences will be if I let them put it in my head. I _need_ your advice."

"What if I tell you that there are millions of hackers in the solar system who constantly thirst for implants? What if I tell you that nEMP may fry them, causing severe complications in your brain? What if I tell you that my parents can overpower the no doubt inferior unit installed in your brain and eavesdrop on your every thought?"

"Can they do all of this?"

The woman sighed. "No. Not if we're careful enough and buy the best. The most expensive implants are those made out of completely organic components. If they fry, their component parts will just be reabsorbed by your body. We can also check their programming beforehand in order to make sure there aren't any backdoors installed."

"And the hackers? I _really_ don't want someone to take control over my body."

"The implants don't go that far, you dolt. Their only function is to read and transmit conscious surface thoughts, although my parents had theirs modified in order to let them access each other's memories. That was what made them _really_ crazy. In any case, the hackers will merely be able to listen in at most."

That still disconcerted him. "How are your parents able to counteract that risk?"

"Well, they have a dedicated team of programmers who are constantly tweaking the security. They also like to stay indoors. This mansion, their hovercars, all of it is protected against wireless attacks. Nothing outside can listen in on us. My parents paid quite a fortune to ensure that. They've even built a whole suite of interfering devices in their clothing and jewelry. Nothing can get past them, or so they say at least."

That meant that if Harry chose to have the implant installed, then he was basically forced to confine himself. Walking out in the open might as well have the same effect of him stripping naked and screaming to everyone that he was a wizard.

Yet with his life on the line, he'd do almost everything to neutralize the threat. If that meant giving in to Amande's parents…

"Do you know of any other relatives who can give us a better deal? We're loaded with credits." Harry offered somewhat desperately.

"Heh, a hundred million credits is literally chump change for my family. The elders are the only ones with the clout to protect you, but they're all swimming in cash. The younger generation like me might be seduced by a few hundred mil, but they have no influence at all. Face it, we have nothing to offer but favors, and the only ones who are asking for it are my parents."

"I don't believe that. I can't believe that. There's no way that your entire family is happy with what they have. They must all want _something_ that I can offer. Perhaps something can be done with my magic."

Harry didn't want to go this far, but he was pretty desperate. He knew very well that one spell would push him over the edge. Yet it would take many days for him to run out of magical energy if he used a minor spell. If he used something big and flashy like transfiguration, then he'd probably fall into a coma in a matter of hours.

He had no other choice. The House of Antares were all pushing him into a corner. He had nothing to offer except for his ship, his crew, and his magic. Installing the implant was _not_ an option.

"Amande." He let go of her arms, which had gone limp by now, and caressed her cheek. He shifted his legs so that he could ease the pressure from her thighs. "Come on, you're my partner. We have to do this together."

Half a minute passed before she stirred. "Get off me!" With surprising strength she shoved Harry off her body. "Don't touch me. Not you. Not my parents. Not anyone. This is _my_ body."

Harry held out his hands to placate the girl. "Look Amande, I don't like the offer any more than you do, but we don't have any other choices. Do we?"

"Heh." She crossed her arms. "My other uncles and aunts definitely won't care. My grandmother might be able to do something about it, but last I heard he's out traipsing about. The Dictat is too busy to concern himself with internal family matters."

"There has to be something! We still have a day – let's use that time to find a solution. Come on, think of something that your family needs that I might be able to offer with my magic."

Amande eyed Harry silently as she considered her situation. On one hand, she was not obliged to do anything and let the assassins deal with him in time. Yet if she let Harry die, she would lose the one unique resource in the universe that no one else had access to: magic. The leverage that she held as the wizard's 'wife' was be unimaginable as long as he succeeded in gaining back his power. Yet getting there meant making sacrifices. Getting herself implanted with an abominable device was a tall order. Did she have the resolve to go on? Did she care enough for Harry that she wanted to be his partner?

A realization struck her at that moment. As she met the desperation filled in Harry's eyes, she felt a power over him. In this world, _her_ world, she was the wizard and Harry was the ignorant fool. She was Lady Amande, a member of the ruling House of Io. A Lady did not bow down and accept the inevitable. The Antares always believed in chasing dreams and achieving the impossible. It was how they came to rule a major lunar colony and managed to hold it for over six hundred years.

"Harry."

"Yes, Amande?"

"You're part of the family now. One of the first lessons that we teach our new members is our philosophy in life."

"And that is?"

The girl made a very rueful smile. "We make our own victory."

"How very Slytherin."

The pair spent the rest of the night going over each of her relatives and friends, seeking out opportunities for bargains in exchange for protection. They pieced information together from Amande's experiences as well as the solarnet. Each worked hard to spot a potential need that they could fulfill. Eventually they called it a night and crept together under the warm covers of Amande's soft bed.

* * *

Claris sat at her desk in her quarters. Her mouth opened in a yawn. It was getting late. She already handled a lot of work dealing with the administrative bullshit the military station imposed on the _Eviscerator_. As a recently acquired privateer vessel, they had to lock their ship down tight and let inspectors in to confirm they couldn't activate their guns and shoot the station apart. They also forced the crew to stow their personal weapons in the armory and keep it locked up tight. Marines guarded the armory as well as all the other access points in order to make sure the crew wouldn't do anything funny. And to top it off, they weren't even allowed to exit the ship. They were, for all intents and purposes, prisoners.

The pirate commander knew they were locked in because her captain's political situation wasn't resolved yet. _'Bloody politicians. This is why I hate the civilized world.'_

Up here in her quarters, she could do nothing to help Harry. She wasn't familiar with this colony and had no contacts to call upon. She didn't know where the best places were to recruit new spacers, restock their supplies or procure new equipment. She had no clue where the information brokers gathered to buy and sell critical tips such as the routes for juicy supply runs or areas with heavy commercial activity.

In short, she had nothing to offer, and she hated it. As long as there wasn't anyone to fight, she was of no use, and would quickly get eclipsed by those who maneuvered this world much better than herself, such as Lady Amande.

'_I can't even do the basic tasks such as transferring our crew and supplies to our new ship.'_

While the _Immortal Marauder_ was complete, the shipyard couldn't just hand over ownership immediately. A combat-capable cruiser was a threatening machine of war. Her main guns could pound civilian stations into slag. Therefore, Harry wasn't allowed to take possession of the ship unless he had some form of authorization. Claris had found out only after the Evie had docked that the authorization was still forthcoming.

'_Probably another political game no doubt.'_

Without that crucial authorization, everyone on the crew was treated with suspicion by the Ioan authorities. They were severely limited in their degree of freedom.

That left most of the crew with depressingly little to do. Claris herself turned to paperwork in order to relieve her boredom. While they might be prohibited from interacting with the outside world, she could still make certain preparations. Once they gained the freedom to interact with the station, she wanted to be ready to move out to their new cruiser immediately. It would be much harder for the Ioans to eject Harry and his crew from the _Immortal Marauder_ and her latest suite of anti-boarding measures.

'_We can never trust them. The sooner we get out of here, the better.'_

Her hatch chimed as her doorbell rang.

"Come in." She said as she deactivated the lock. Now who would visit her this late at night?

Captain Rysa strode in wearing her old but impeccable uniform. She approached Claris directly. "Commander Claris. May I have a word?"

"Of course you may, captain."

Though Rysa technically outranked Claris, they both knew it was a sham. 'Captain' Rysa was still an untrusted person in the crew. Claris had been with Harry from the start, while Rysa hadn't participated in any meaningful way in their struggles. However, the trouble was that having two captains on a single ship didn't work. Harry and Claris was still figuring out a way to deal with Rysa that would also be in agreement with the regulations stipulated by the Ioan Navy.

'_Tch, rules and regulations. Pirates have no need for those.'_

Rysa composed herself before she spoke. "Commander, I have been helping Terry prepare the setup of our new corporation and repair yard business."

"And this concerns me.. how?"

"As you very well might know, staffing remains our main concern. We are short on almost every officer and chief in almost every category. Recruitment will be difficult due to the fact that for many positions, merchant crew simply will not cut it. To man the _Immortal Marauder_ optimally, we need military trained crew. However, most of them are very loyal to the Ioan Navy and wouldn't dream on signing up with a privateer vessel."

"I already know that, captain."

"Well, what if I told you I have an angle on the Ioan Navy? What if I helped recruit you your officers and NCOs?"

The conversation suddenly became a lot more interesting. Claris closed her console and paid full attention to Rysa. "How?"

Rysa grinned like a shark. "I used to attend the Naval Academy of Io. I know all the watering holes, how to approach the bad crowd, where to pick up failed graduates and those who are left on shore to do menial office work. The Ioan Navy has far more officers than what is actually needed to staff their ships. They like to have a lot of reserves in hand in case they need to mobilize for total war. That means that competition for a warship posting is rather high, leaving many others frustrated. I can get them for you. Not the complete rejects, but those with the skills but not the connections to serve on a cruiser."

"Thanks for telling me that, Rysa. But what stops me from approaching them directly?"

"You're not one of them. No one will trust you, especially if you're out to get them. I know their hardships. I know their culture and traditions. I'm the only officer on this ship who attended the Naval Academy. Face it, you won't make any headway with them without my aid."

Nodding slowly, Claris conceded the point. "Very well. So how does this ties in with the new corporation?"

"In exchange for getting you the officers, I'd like to be in charge of the corporation and stay at the colony."

This immediately caused Claris to raise her eyebrows. She hadn't thought much of the corporation at all; that was supposed to be Terry's job. In hindsight the commander supposed that he would have been the natural choice for the managing director due to his expertise in finance and accounting. Yet for all his knowledge, Terry was plainly not leadership material. Captain Rysa on the other hand was a proven leader with a solid track record. Running a corporation was different than running a pirate ship, of course, but the essence was the same.

"I have to discuss your proposal with Harry first. We'll get back to you on this later."

"Don't bullshit me." The captain pushed back, unwilling to be blown off now that she came this far. "Harry barely cares about these issues. We all know you're the one who makes the real decisions. Tell me your decision now."

Her lips curled downwards as Claris regarded Rysa carefully. She never liked the older woman. Rysa seemed to chafe at every order she received and never took Harry very seriously. Letting her loose on Io while still uncertain about her loyalty was a major risk. There might be no telling what kind of damage she could do.

"As I said earlier," Rysa added. "Our crew is short on officers in virtually every position save for one, the captaincy itself. As large as the _Immortal Marauder_ is, she can't have two captains."

That was a good point, Claris conceded. She had been figuring out what to do with Rysa. Demoting her was the obvious course of action, but doing so might upset Rysa so much that she might rebel. The rank of captain was a very rare and prestigious title. Those who earned the rank was a class apart. Taking it away from anyone was an unimaginable loss of face.

"Alright, Rysa. You can have your way, but only _if_ you manage to find _qualified_ officers for every position that we need to fill, especially the critical ones such as gunnery and engineering. Make certain they have a vague idea on what they're getting into – we don't want our new officers to freak out once they learn they're in it for life."

Rysa nodded silently, but Claris couldn't quite trust her yet. The possibilities for chaos were endless. If Rysa picked the right people, she could even instigate a mutiny. This was a very dangerous time to acquire five times their current crew. Those who were really loyal to Harry would be vastly outnumbered by a very large mob resentful of being press-ganged for life. They all needed to hire just the right type of person in order to minimize that risk.

Before Rysa turned to leave, Claris called out, "One more thing, captain. I want to go over each of your prospects before we extend our invitation to them. You will not bring anyone to our ship without my screening."

"Fair enough, commander." And with a final nod, the captain left Claris' quarters in a victorious stride. Rysa had gotten what she wanted.

* * *

Harry and Amande spent the next day searching for any possible leads. Yet as the clock ticked, they came up with only meager alternatives. With only eight hours left to go, they achieved depressingly little. They discovered a handful of opportunities, but most of them were impractical due to the cost or the time required to gain a favor.

"Harry.. we've exhausted all our opportunities. Any remaining contacts that we've uncovered simply won't have the power to stand against the House of Antares."

"Alright then.. let's review our options again and make a decision now."

His wife handed him a plastic sheet that contained the first dossier that they had constructed over the day. Lord Terrance Antares was Lord Wellesley's younger brother and the CEO of Antares Shipping. Unlike his older siblings, he married early and already had a young daughter. The problem was that their daughter was sick.

In this future day and age, all of humanity had traces of genetic modification in their genes. There was an earlier period in humanity's history where genetic modification was both more extensive and widespread. The widespread divergence quickly spun out of control as civilization was wracked by violence, epidemics and pseudo-interspecies war. This dark period led to the ban of widespread genetic manipulation and a strict enforcement of 'genuine genetics'. Every planet, colony and space station had genetic scanners in their ports in order to check that everyone's genes stayed within the guidelines of acceptable humanness. Those who fell outside of the boundaries were declared as non-humans, to which no rights would be granted.

That meant that anyone could kill a non-human and get away with it. Suffice to say, genetic manipulation on an ambitious scale died out. A smaller form eventually emerged which only concerned itself in rooting out genetic diseases and certain cosmetic designs such as the size of the ears or the color of the eyes.

As a noble of the main branch of the ruling House, Lord Terrance's daughter received the best treatment. It only turned out later on that young Lady Annabelle's genetics had been sabotaged. She was supposed to die shortly after she took her first breath. Only through the miraculous effort of the best doctors on Io did they manage to stabilize her lungs. Lady Annabelle lived, but only barely. The public images showed a gruesome sight of a tiny girl connected to huge machines.

"It's so sad how Annabelle turned out." Amande murmured as she sat next to Harry to study the dossier with him. "I've visited her when she was only 6 months old. She's just a baby. She didn't deserve all of this. Lord Terrance had their genetic consultant tried and executed, but he never managed to find out who had ordered the sabotage. He can only watch helplessly as his daughter wastes away in the hospital."

"And they can't cure it no matter what?"

"No. The disease is genetic – every single cell in her body contains organic programming that makes it impossible for her to breathe. That might have not been a problem in itself, but her genes also contains code that rejects most implants and mechanical transplantation. She can only breathe with those huge machines because they don't cause rejection. The only way to permanently cure her is to change her genetics, but there's no way modern technology can accomplish such a feat."

"I'm not sure magic can help." Harry replied sheepishly as he considered the option. "I've seen magic do great things such as regenerating entire limbs or replenishing a person's blood. But I have never heard of a way for magic to fix an entire person's genetic structure. The only means I know of that _may_ cause such a change are spells purported to fix someone's squibness."

"Squib..ness?"

"Squibs are children of magical heritage who possess insufficient magic to cast their own spells. They generate just enough magic within their core to interact with outside magic, but that is all they can do. Having a squib in a pureblood family was a huge mark of shame in my time. I once dug into Malfoy's archive and found out they had a book on fixing a child's squibness. The spells contained within might change a person's genetics, but I'm not too sure. As far as I knew, they never worked for the Malfoys, so I'm not sure the spells work in the first place or if I can even redirect them to fix the genes that concerned the lungs."

"But you said magic worked on intent. Surely you can do something."

"It's not that simple. We wouldn't need spellbooks if we can simply wish what we want without any effort." Harry turned away and retrieved his Elder Wand. "My magical aptitude is also different from a healer. I've got lots of power but only a passing amount of control. My wand compounds the differences – it overcharges spells but leaves me with distressingly little control. However.. it _is_ a special wand, and it always follows my general intent, so it might work out."

"Then you'll do it?" Amande looked very hopeful at that moment.

"No. The magical expenditure is too great. I have no idea how much is needed, but such a fundamental change in a person's being will doubtlessly require a lot of energy. The curse that runs through me will have a field day with it and drain me dry in a matter of weeks."

His wife deflated. Harry felt a little bad for disappointing her, but early on every wizard learned that they couldn't save everyone. Saving the kid was simply too much of a risk to themselves. He dropped the dossier and picked up the next one.

This one concerned the head of a vassal House. Lord Ritten of the House of Long had a well-known fascination for dragons. With all the dragon-derived materials Harry had on hand, it would be easy for him to part with a sample for DNA reconstruction.

"I like this option." Harry commented. "It's easy and it doesn't require me to cast any magic. I'm not too comfortable with letting something out of the old Wizarding World loose, but it's a small price to pay if it gets me enough support."

"It won't work out." Amande declared as she took the dossier and changed it to Lord Ritten's profile. "Look at his assets and his positions. He's the head of a House, but he doesn't have a lot of power in Ioan society. Putting us under his wing will put him in the cross-hairs of the House of Antares. I'm not sure how he'll hold up to pressure. Another point is that it will take a lot of time to verify the sample you'll give out, and there's no guarantee that he might even hear you out today."

Harry sighed as he put away the dossier. "Very well. Besides these two possible opportunities, we have the option to accept your parents' offer or refuse and do nothing."

"Doing nothing is not an option. Wellesley is a man of action, and my parents will see you as a nuisance if you aren't of any use."

"I really think we should approach Lord Ritten."

"And I told you before, even if he responds today he might not be able to keep his word."

"Then we should start to reconsider your parents' original offer. I don't like getting a machine stuck in my head any more than you, but if your parents managed to live with it, so can we."

Amande didn't respond. Harry turned his head, only to see her quivering and clenching her fists. "Amande?"

"How dare you suggest that!" She hissed, and shoved Harry away from her. "How dare you ignore Annabelle! You've got magic! You're the _only_ person in the entire solar system who can give her a full life."

Harry was really getting tired of being shoved away. He wanted to slap her face, and for once he didn't restrain himself as he stormed over the girl and smacked her hard. "Shut up! I already explained my reasons. Once the curses start to drain my magic, I won't have enough time left to regain my magic."

"Then we'll speed it up." Amande offered as she glared defiantly as she stroked her reddened cheek. "Lord Terrance is a member of the main branch of the House of Antares. While he's just the third son of Wellesley's father, he still has a lot of pull. He can get Wellesley to stop his games and speed up your preparations. He'd do _anything_ to save his daughter."

"Most of the delay doesn't come from Io, Amande. I still need to draw my runes over the surface of our new ship. Claris told me that the ship's EM resistant plating is very vulnerable to conventional damage otherwise. It will take me at least three weeks to cover the entire ship. Time that I don't have if I attempt to heal your cousin. And I say attempt because there's a large chance that it won't work."

"I'll get Terrance to protect you anyway even if you fail. We'll tell him about your magic and promise him that you can heal his daughter with your full resources."

"That's not an option." Harry declared. "It's bad enough that I have to share my secret with you, but at least I can restrain you with my Mark. I doubt I can control someone of the likes of Lord Terrance with the same, and with my depleted magic it probably won't be sufficient."

"Control, control, control, it's always about control with you!" Amande burst out and pressed her finger against his chest. "When will you learn to just _trust_ other people?"

He didn't answer that question. He had been burned so many times that his expression was all he needed to convey his message.

"This isn't your world, Harry. Whatever you've suffered in the past won't happen here. We progressed beyond that. We're the future."

While Harry had a few choice things to say about that, he was cut off again.

"Look. I won't let you walk away from healing Annabelle. She needs help and she doesn't have that long to live. I'll do anything I can to help you get your way. With Lord Terrance's help you'll have everything you need."

Harry realized he was at a juncture. His next decision would propel him into a new direction. If he chose to implant Amande and himself, he'd be spending his life with an irate wife and a ticking time bomb in his brain. If he went for Lord Ritten, he might not get what he wanted in the end due to Ritten's weak position. And if he chose to help Lady Annabelle.. well, he'd be spending a lot of magic, with no guarantees of success. It was the option with the highest risk of all. Yet, with the support of a main branch house member, he could obtain ample support from the House of Antares.

'_I never really did things halfway.'_

"Alright, Amande. I'll do what you want. I'll try to heal Lady Annabelle."

Amande's mood immediately brightened up. "Thank you Harry!" And she flung at him in a hug. "You're the best!"

'_Damn girls, are they always so moody?'_

"Hold on." He said and gently pushed her back. "I can't just visit whatever hospital she's in and heal her in three seconds. The ritual that I have in mind requires a lot of preparation. I need have complete privacy in her room and a lot of blood to paint the ritual circle. I also need a large magical reagent. The only thing that I have on hand is the corpse of one of those psi-ops kids, but the _Eviscerator_ is quarantined and hours away on another station."

"That won't be a problem. I'll call Lord Terrance immediately to arrange a meeting and set things going. He lives at a mansion not far from here so it won't take a lot of time."

"We don't have enough time to waste. I'd like to go to the hospital immediately to prepare. I don't really remember all the details and I need to meditate in order to recall the design of the ritual circle."

"Okay, okay, I'll do everything I can."

As Harry left to take the taxi, Amande immediately contacted Lord Terrance to explain their offer. While it took some time to get a hold of him, when he finally answered the call he appeared skeptical.

"This is no time to make jokes, Amande." The handsome noble responded. "I've been assured by every doctor in the solar system that my daughter's condition can't be cured. I've studied the field myself to know how impossible it is to cure my little Annabelle."

It took a lot of talk to overcome Terrance's objection. He had little hope for his daughter, yet Amande had calculated that he would never pass up the opportunity for another 'miracle' cure.

"Very well." Terrance sighed. "I'll lean on my older brother and get him to lift the quarantine a little. You will have your time with my daughter, but I'm only trusting you with this because you're family. If you do _anything_ to my daughter.."

"I know, uncle. We'll be careful, I swear."

The man nodded. "I will hold you to it. Can't you at least tell me something about the cure you will be administering to my daughter?"

"We barely know anything ourselves, and it will be Captain Harry who will do the actual procedure. All we know is that the cure is based on extrasolar materials." Amande lied, knowing that she couldn't tell the truth, not yet at least and certainly not over a communication link. She just needed to feed Terrance a convincing lie in order to prevent him from investigating any further. "Harry looted it from some trade ship some time back. We don't know which corporation manufactured it or how it works. We just know it does."

"To think that there's a corporation that has a cure out there.." Terrance muttered over the communication link. "And dares to keep it secret from the rest of the solar system. If I find out which corporation denied us this radical new cure, I'll destroy them. They could have cured my daughter long ago! I would have paid them billions!"

Amande made comforting noises as she let Lord Terrance rant. She didn't mean to make him angry, but she had to give him a plausible story.

Inwardly, she smiled. She managed to steer her husband towards an outcome that was highly favorable to her. She didn't have to wear an implant. She'd obtain Lord Terrance's gratitude, which would boost her influence if the cure was successful. And most importantly, even if Harry failed, she bared none of the risks, leaving all the unpleasant consequences confined to her husband. If anything went south, Harry would soon waste away into nothing, leaving his assets all to herself.

'_Hmm, what can I do with a hundred million credits and a warship?'_

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	31. I: Passing the Threshold - Repost

March 23, 2012  
November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Passing the Threshold_

* * *

Harry looked down at the sleeping girl. The child looked lovingly innocent. Her cheeks were soft and her long blond hair flowed around her like a stream. One of her tiny hands clutched an exquisite stuffed toy. _'I guess some things are still the same in the future.'_

The only things that marred the sight were the tubes and wires that connected her to the huge machines that allowed her to breathe. Her chest only faintly rose up and down. Every once in a while, her breath hiccupped, and the machine would beep in response before doing something. The pattern repeated every two minutes or so. Harry paid it no mind as he lazily scanned the girl. He needed to get a read on her spirit in order to draw the right runes around the ritual circle.

Closing his eyes, he expanded his mind and let his spirit touch hers.

'_So dim.. I can barely sense her. She's weak.'_

He spent a few minutes brushing up against her spirit but failed to get much out of it. Cursing to himself, he retreated back to his own body and went to work. He went towards the first packets of blood and opened the end. He dabbed his finger in the viscous liquid and started to work on the recently emptied room.

Amande had provided everything he asked. The room was cleared with toys, flowers and other junk. The hospital provided him with ample fresh blood. No one would disturb him. The only other thing he needed was the special cargo from the _Eviscerator_. Once the corpse arrived, Harry could commence the ritual.

He first drew the required symbols on the sterile white floor and walls. The motion was so familiar to him now that he did it with only half of his attention. He discovered somewhere late in his life that he always had a knack for ancient runes. Having worked with the field extensively since his awakening, his skill with runes and rituals now transcended towards a mastery that allowed him to combine smaller effects to achieve a larger outcome. The squib purging ritual that Harry barely managed to dredge from his memory wouldn't suffice by itself. All it did was target all the physical traits that ancient wizards thought had to do with magic. Harry needed to remove that function and replace it with a different one that dealt with breathing and health.

It was an extraordinary difficult venture to craft a new ritual circle from scratch. He was going purely by guesswork and intuition. The odds of success were quite low if you considered all the things that could go wrong. The fact that the ritual was quite dark only compounded the risk. The ritual was actually designed to 'steal' the magic of another magical person and imprint the essence on the squib.

This presented another problem. In all the rituals the dark wizards had performed before, they used living adult wizards. Harry frankly had no idea what would happen if he used the dead corpse of a child who not only had an unstable magical core, but was also drugged up and enhanced in ways he didn't know. Still, there were no alternatives. He supposed he could call up some random criminal and sacrifice his life, but that brought in even more variables. No, better to keep it as simple as possible and hope that his magic accepted the sacrifice that he would offer.

Sometime after he finished drawing up the room, the door chimed in a familiar note. Harry walked over and carefully positioned himself so that the camera would block the rest of the room. Only then did he activate the viewport.

To his relief, Amande's face showed up. "Your 'delivery' from the _Eviscerator_ just arrived. I'll bring it in. Don't worry, there aren't any other people around."

"Make certain you do."

The door slid open, revealing his wife and the floating coffin that contained his most important reagent. Amande deactivated the gravitic field, allowing the coffin to thunk to the floor. The girl then looked around her, taking in the sights.

"You've certainly been busy."

"It's going to get a lot busier soon. Leave, and make sure no one else enters in the next two hours."

"Lord Terrance isn't an easy man to hold back. He's quite nervous why you said you needed complete privacy for this. I don't think he completely bought my story, but he won't complain as long as your little magic trick ends well."

Harry shrugged and shooed her out the door. "We'll worry about failure when it comes to that. Now get out."

After he took a deep breath, he went to finish his preparations. He carefully lifted the cold corpse from the coffin and placed the naked body precisely parallel to the bed of the little girl. _'The damn bed and machinery are in the way, but I can't do anything about it.'_ He just hoped his magic was able to cope.

After checking over each and every detail, he finally felt he was ready to perform the ritual. He summoned his Elder Wand and went to work. The magic contained within his body sprung forward and threatened to surge out of his wand. With great effort he tried to limit the stream into a trickle, and from a trickle into a drop.

The blood ritual didn't require a lot of magic. Harry was glad the design expressly drew most of its unnatural energies from the reagent. Yet a certain amount of his personal magic was still needed to guide the process. With that in mind, he carefully expelled a small amount of himself to spark the ritual.

The room darkened immediately as the lights blinked off. The blood runes that he had drawn on the floor and walls lit up in demonic red. The wizard let forth a bit more magic to start the next step, chanting ancient words as he did so. He praised the demons of the netherworld, beseeched them to listen to him, and called upon them to accept his sacrifice. As each word passed his lips, a single rune lit up brighter than the rest before blackening out.

The air grew thicker in the room. The sleeping girl had fits as she tried to take in a breath, causing the machines to beep with worrisome frequency. Harry ignored the distractions and continued to pace around the room, weaving his wand in a lyrical fashion. Forth and forth his wand went up until finally a wellspring of magical energy tore from the psi-ops corpse. Faint remnants of the soul that inhabited the body sprang up as well. Their chaotic, almost manic dance threatened to destabilize the ritual.

Recognizing the threat, Harry half-consciously slipped his hand into a pocket and retrieved his Resurrection Ring.

Two of the Hallows were at play now.

An unknown source of inspiration sprang into his mind. The sudden influx of knowledge bid him to take certain actions, which he obeyed without a thought. His foot shifted. His hand lowered. His head tilted. Individually, the actions made no sense. But Harry could already feel the result. The soul fragments ceased their struggle and let themselves be swept away by the stream.

Harry went back to regulating the flow of magic. He needed to shape it into the desired form. His wand slowly shifted the torrent of energies, nudging them towards certain power points he had drawn up earlier. Each passing seemed to energize the flow, changing it and warping it into a different form, a different purpose. The raw magic became more refined with each passing, until there was nothing left of the original imprint.

It was beautiful.

The ball of life-changing magic welled up before him, not quite stilled but not quite moving. With a final glance, he turned to little Annabelle, and swept his arm into a downward motion until the tip of his wand touched her forehead. The stream of magic poured into her unprepared body like a hammer, and the child woke up from her slumber to let out a horrified gurgle that would have been a full-throated cry if not for the tubes in her mouth.

Sweat poured from his head as Harry continued to regulate the now-raging channel that still poured into the child. Her body flailed, causing several wires to snap or disconnect. The wizard paid it no heed, knowing the importance of maintaining his concentration. With his wand hand he continued to direct the flow into Annabelle's body. With his other hand he spread out the energy into the rest of the body. He needed to reach every limb, every organ, every cell. Her entire life code needed to change, and for that to happen, the magic needed to reach every single part of her being, hair included.

The girl ceased her struggle, whether from lack of consciousness or exhaustion Harry didn't know or care. Once the stream finished entering his subject's body he shifted his wand to initiate the final stage of the ritual. Annabelle's body burned bright with purplish-red magic. Flares extended every so often due to the energy's raging desire to be free. It was difficult for Harry to contain the energies within Annabelle's body. Already he drew up more and more of his personal magic to keep in control.

When he finally deemed he was ready, he pushed out yet another trickle of his magic. It ignited the energies inside Annabelle, heating up her body and burning it in a fiery cycle of life and rebirth. A thick hum emanated from the transformation as Annabelle's body changed before the wizard. She went from a two-year old girl to an eight year old, then back to her original age. Every single cell of her body shattered and reassembled, over and over and over. All the wires, tubes and other objects that kept her connected to the machines fell to the bed as gravity pulled them through the half-substantial body.

When the process threatened to burn out the girl completely, Harry brought the ritual to a close. Holding out both of his hands, he carefully but firmly pushed out his magic, unrefined but filled with his intent. The curses that leeched from his magic made it more difficult for him to control the still-raging ritual. He continued to pour out his magic, almost unheeding of the consequences. He gritted his teeth and snarled. "_**Heal, and become whole!**_"

Annabelle's body suddenly stilled as it became fully formed – causing the remaining energy to expel from her form and explode into a sphere of green that propelled Harry away from her bedside and smack him against the opposite wall.

"OOF!"

The sudden end had startled Harry. As he slid down from the wall, he struggled to maintain his consciousness. The darkened room showed no active magical traces anymore. _'At least it ended correctly.. whether it worked..' _His thoughts drifted off as he tried to maintain his consciousness. _'Damnit, I can't pass out now.'_ He slowly crawled towards the door, disturbing the ashes that used to be the runes he had drawn up for the ritual. A constant pain itched inside his stomach. It was a pain that Harry was very familiar with. He had lived with the same sensation for nine hundred years.

The curse that drained his magic finally overpowered his natural replenishment. Every second that ticked by drained his core and fueled the curse, causing it to suck even more out of his magic. On and on the cycle would go until he went completely dry.

Fortunately, the drain was still small. Small enough to give him a few weeks, though Harry didn't know if he had two or four weeks. The cascading effect made it very difficult for him to predict when he ran dry. All he knew was that he didn't have a lot of time.

As the boy finally reached the door, he lifted himself up to activate the comm. "A-Amande…"

"Harry! We all felt something happening. Did it work? Are you done?"

The wizard, looking much worse for the wear, nodded weakly. "Clean up the room.. remove all traces of _it_.. and put me somewhere safe…"

He then passed out.

* * *

Amande entered the room with a pair of cleaning bots. She set them down the floor and pushed them into work. The machines blindly obliged her and began to remove the fallout from the ritual. She then turned to Harry and couldn't help but look at him in amazement. She had never told him she kept an eye on him throughout the ritual. While the regular security cameras had been covered up and disabled, she still spied on him through the intercom.

She was utterly amazed at the colorful trails of energy that Harry summoned. She was even more impressed how he guided it into Annabelle's body and made it warp in and out of existence. Not even the most impressive light shows in theater surpassed Harry's genuine wizardry.

When Harry finished his ritual, Amande quickly deactivated the camera and removed the hidden recording stored for logging purposes. _'No need for anyone else to know yet what a gold mine my husband is. I'll definitely have to keep him alive.'_

Smiling mirthfully, she bent over and lifted Harry's body up and dragged him over to the coffin. She dropped him on its surface like a saddle, then activated the gravitic engines to float the device. Before she turned to leave the room, she suddenly remembered she needed to check on Annabelle.

'_I have to see whether Harry succeeded.'_

Almost carefully she stepped towards the bed. The machines that used to regulate the patient's breath beeped in useless patterns. Spotting the tubes, clothes and wires pressed under Annabelle's back, Amande gently lifted her up to remove the annoying things before laying the child back down. The older woman then pressed her hand against Annabelle's tiny chest.

It moved faintly, but it moved. Up and down. Up and down. Amande almost couldn't believe it. _'My little cousin is actually breathing on her on power! Harry did it! He actually did what no amount of technology could do!'_

A million ideas whirled in and out of her head as the ramifications of Harry's performance sunk in. Never before had she seen Harry perform such a miracle. All she had ever seen him do so far was to drawing a lot of ritual circles, mostly to repair or reinforce his ship. But this _other_ magic showed that he was capable of much greater feats. He held within himself the power of a god.

'_And no one knows of him except for me.'_ She mused, absently discounting Harry's crew. They were inconsequential anyway. None of them had any influence in society.

Her smile widened, then lowered a little as she remembered why Harry was hesitant about performing this feat of magic. Something about.. curses, whatever they were. Oh well, once Lord Terrance sees his daughter in good health, he'd be falling all over himself to fulfill Harry's needs.

'_Sweet dreams, Annabelle.'_ She thought as she lowered herself to kiss the toddler's forehead. Amande then took the coffin carrying Harry's body and made for the exit.

Lord Terrance and his wife, Lady Victoria, waited anxiously on the other side. They looked surprised to see Harry unconscious and hauled out by Amande, but their worries quickly turned to their daughter.

"Is she alright?" "Did the cure work?"

Amande's bright smile eased the worry off their gazes. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

That was all the parents needed before storming inside the room where their daughter rested. A few seconds later Lady Victoria let out an astonished – but delightful – cry.

"She's breathing! She's actually breathing!"

Amande let them have their moment with their daughter as she carried Harry away. Today they would have their happiness. The young woman wanted the parents to be fully as grateful as possible before she started to make her demands. Despite the constant urgency that Harry expressed, Amande doubted whether a single day made a difference. It was better to wait until her words would have the maximum amount of impact on Lord Terrance.

No doubt word of Harry's feat would quickly spread as Terrance invited his closest family and friends to see the miracle for themselves. This would instantly quell the doubt of Amande's marriage to the wizard and boost their prestige. Lord Wellesley wouldn't dare touch Harry now, and neither her parents for that matter.

It felt so good to see that her gamble had paid off.

* * *

Star stared out at the night time expanse of the military station as she took a sip of Europan wine. She would never sully her tongue with the juice the local Ioans called their local wine. She stared out past the tall structures and beautiful parks to the shipyard in the distance. Harry's new ship lay there, ready to be transferred to her rightful owner.

But that was not why Star lounged at the balcony of her hotel room. Her other hand held her datapad. Its current page displayed a very interesting news feed.

_ANTARES CHILD CURED FROM GENETIC DISEASE!  
A miracle cure provided by Captain Harry Antares performed the impossible_

The rest of the story detailed how practically every doctor thought the condition was incurable, but that some 'unknown' corporation had a cure developed all along and that Captain Harry happened to stumble upon it after he raided an enemy merchant vessel.

It went without saying that Star took the news with a grain of salt. No pill or potion could change an a living person's genetic structure, even she knew that. It must be something else that had cured the little girl, something much more profound than a simple prescription drug.

The blond woman had been following Captain Harry for a while. Ever since his first appearance back at Vlessing Base, she had a feeling the young man was more than he appeared. Back then she had merely been busy with managing the assets of her benefactors in that remote part of space. The strange boy had caught her eye due to his daring risk taking. His subsequent performance in completing the mission she had set out for him revealed he had a lot of promise. Only Ether's arrogance ruined the chance to plant a foothold within his ship.

She could never have predicted how much she underestimated Harry's potential. Only after she acquired some interesting blue dust and sent them on to her benefactors did her whole world start to change. Galaxy, her superior, paid closer attention to her and exhorted her to make contact with Captain Harry. The dust had sent the entire organization into a frenzy. The agent wasn't quite sure _why_ they were so excited, but she knew it would make her life much more complicated.

One of the problems with her current assignment was that Captain Harry always kept moving. Only the damage the _Eviscerator_ sustained in her last battle did Star finally manage to catch up and arrive in the same colony that Harry was currently present. This allowed her to finally setup a meeting between her and the elusive young ex-pirate. She hoped to catch him fairly quickly, and convince him to join or at least partner with her organization.

When Star had passed on to her benefactors that Captain Harry intended to pass through the Gravitic Catapult to Earth for some banal and suicidal reason, she received an enormous amount of messages. They all wanted her to stop Harry from going. He was, after all, the only lead to that unknown blue dust and whatever source it came from. If there was something on Earth that Harry needed, Star was tasked with finding an alternative that would make the trip unnecessary. Barring that, she was allowed to use any means to keep him from leaving.

'_Though,' _Star wondered as she looked back at the news sheet again. _'It's going to be very difficult to sabotage his ship, now that he's a national hero.'_

The woman took another sip of her wine and let her mind drift away.

'_The things I do for my heritage.'_

* * *

Back on Antares Station, a pair of contented parents watched their daughter sleep. For practically her entire life, little Annabelle always needed the aid of machines to keep her oxygenated. Today marked the first time in her life that she was able to breathe from her own strength. Lady Victoria couldn't help but coo whenever Annabelle's chest rose and fell. She wanted to hug her daughter and feel her chest but the doctors had all advised against that action. Annabelle's chest was still too weak – she needed lots of rest before she could leave the hospital.

'_At least she can lead a better life now.'_ Terrance thought as he recalled what had happened a few hours ago. As he and his wife entertained the various guests that had arrived to see the miracle, Annabelle had woken up and made her first sound. The little girl had cried, and Victoria immediately went over to Annabelle's side to embrace her into a hug despite the frantic gestures of the doctors monitoring her condition.

Yet nothing happened. Annabelle cried out for minutes, using her tiny chest to let out prodigious breaths that filled everyone's hearts. Eventually she calmed down, and even formed her tiny lips into her very first words.

"_Mama."_

Just that simple act rose everyone's spirits while bringing tears to Terrance and Victoria. They finally had the family they had always wanted. Their daughter was safe and healthy. Terrance resolved to make up for all the lost time that Annabelle had been stuck in the hospital with those awful tubes constricting her mouth. He would spoil Annabelle to death and provide her with all the joy he could provide.

"My dear, it's getting late." He spoke tiredly as he brushed Victoria's shoulder. "Let her rest. She'll still be here tomorrow."

"I'm not leaving my baby." She hissed and hovered protectively over her oblivious daughter. "I'll never let her out of my sight, not when she's finally healthy."

"Don't be a fool. I've got security teams stationed in and around this room." Terrance gestured absently at the silent security guards standing unobtrusively in the corner in full combat gear. "Nothing will come and hurt our child."

"I'm not leaving. Order your lackeys to bring a bed here if you care so much, but I'll _never_ leave this room."

They argued softly for a little while until Terrance finally relented and ordered a bed and some sleeping garments be brought in. The hospital obediently complied. It wasn't the first time a noble requested such a thing. The couple changed into their sleeping attire in the bathroom and returned to the room. Terrance went over the hastily prepared bed while Victoria went back to her daughter's side.

"I shall take the first watch. I will wake you up in four hours and you can stand watch for the rest of the night."

"Don't be ridiculous dear. There's no need for any of us to stand watch. My men are much more capable than you."

"Really. I'm sure they will be as capable as our genetic consultant who sabotaged Annabelle's genetics, no doubt." Victoria spat back.

The remark hurt Terrance deeply. She was right. He had not been careful enough, and allowed his daughter to live out her first two years in hell. He gave up the argument and crept in his temporary bed.

Terrance took a few minutes to make himself comfortable. The hospital bed could not compare to the masterpiece back in his mansion. He couldn't wait to introduce Annabelle to her very own bedroom filled with all the toys Victoria collected over the years.

After a while, his thoughts strayed to the person who made it all possible. _'Lord Harry. Amande's new husband.'_

"Victoria, did you ever wonder how Lord Harry was able to heal our daughter?"

The question befuddled her a little. "Some miracle cure, right?"

"The more I think about it, the less it makes sense. No cure – whether by injection or radiation or any other method – can change a person's entire genetic makeup in just an hour's time. The most distinguished medical advisers all said so."

"Well obviously they don't know anything." She retorted, still scathing at their inability to help her child. "The doctors all took a DNA sample from every part of Annabelle's body and came back with the same result this evening. The genetic defects are _gone_."

What was left unspoken was that the child currently resting in the room was not a clone or impostor, but Terrance didn't feel the need to share those worries with his wife. There was another detail though that he did wanted to share. "The cure neutralized the sabotage, but it also did something else. There are several changes in her DNA that don't have anything to do with breathing."

"Who cares. Probably a side effect. All that matters is that our child is healthy." Victoria beamed as she tickled her daughter's nose.

"My dear, all I'm saying is that Lord Harry and Lady Amande are hiding something. They did something strange to our daughter, something they don't want anyone else to find out. Why else keep everyone out while Lord Harry administered the cure? And why would Amande insist a young pirate captain perform the treatment instead of a fully qualified doctor?"

"Terrance." The mother sighed. "I'm not stupid, you know. You didn't marry me for my lack of brain cells. _Of course_ I know those lovebirds are hiding something. I've been studying Annabelle's condition extensively enough that even I know there's something else behind the obvious. But why don't you just _leave_ them alone? Let them have their secrets. They provided us with the greatest gift we could ever want in our lives. Don't you feel grateful?"

"There are other children suffering from genetic malfunctions. If Lord Harry possesses a device or some other sort of cure that could help them too, then they can do the entire solar system a favor by disseminating the method. They were only willing to cure our sweetheart because they're in a pinch."

"Just drop it and leave the couple alone. They will probably share the secrets when the time is right. Now go to sleep."

"..Yes dear."

As Terrance began to doze off, Victoria added one more thing.

"Oh, and whatever sweet Amande asks of us, you'll do everything you can to fulfill them. We're in her debt now, got that?"

"Mm-mm.. whatever you say."

* * *

Claris woke up next morning to find she was in a different world. Just last night she complained about all the restrictions placed on her and her ship. Now she suddenly found the entire ship in a frenzy as her crew walked back and forth to haul their luggage out. "W-What's going on?"

Chief Cleveland, who directed the travel that passed through the main passenger hatch, called her over. "Word just got in at 06:00. Captain Harry received his letter of marque from the fleet admiral himself. We received our authorization and we're now officially privateers. The _Immortal Marauder_ is also released into Harry's possession."

"So you all just decided to ship out your luggage without me?"

The chief shrugged a little. "We didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep."

"Oh just cut the crap and— HEY! Who are you and what are you doing here!" Claris shouted at a stranger wearing the uniform of the Ioan Navy. The man carried all sorts of heavy tools over his shoulders.

"Wha— I'm just the mechanic, man. I'm here to inventory the battle damage and write up a projection on repairs. If you have any issues with that you can take it up to my superior." The man then continued on his merry way.

"But we didn't give out an order to repair the Evie. It would take too much money and we can't recoup the cost when we sell the ship."

"What can I say," Cleveland commented with a hint of amusement. "That Ioan fleet admiral must be feeling very generous."

"You know something." Claris stated with sudden certainty. "What happened?"

Instead of responding, Cleveland reached into his pocket and handed Claris his datapad. She scanned the headlines quickly.

_ANTARES CHILD CURED FROM GENETIC DISEASE!  
A miracle cure provided by Captain Harry Antares performed the impossible_

_CAPTAIN HARRY ANTARES: IO'S NEXT DARLING HERO  
The latest Antares is already making a splash: what else does he have in store?_

_THE STAR PRIVATEER RECEIVES HIS FIRST COMMENDATION  
Fleet Admiral Wellesley Antares will award Captain Harry Antares with the Tornado of Io_

No doubt other news outlets had different stories, but Claris got the gist. She handed the datapad back. "It looks like Captain Harry is up to his old tricks again."

"That he does." The Chief of Security nodded. "Oh, and before you ask, I've already taken care to hide the.." He leaned his head and whispered, "_Elves_. We stuck them into a shipping container that we'll carry to the _Immortal Marauder_ ourselves."

"Good, that's a relief." Claris had been half afraid the mechanic or any other navy personnel might stumble upon the extraterrestrials. "The only other thing we need to do is pack Captain Harry's gear. I've got his door key, but he's very touchy about his possessions. Have you or anyone else established contact with him yet?"

"You'd have to ask Professor Zhang, but I ain't heard anything yet."

"Very well, carry on then Cleveland."

The commander went back to her cabin to refine her makeup and pack her luggage. She had amassed a lot of loot over the years. She'd guessed it would take up half of a shipping container if she wanted to bring along her furniture, which she certainly intended to do.

As soon as she arranged her personal matters she went to the bridge and relieved professor Zhang. He provided her with an extensive report that clarified some of the questions she still had.

A notification greeted her an hour later. Captain Harry had finally returned from that snake spit called the House of Antares. Claris eagerly left the bridge and went back to the airlock to greet the captain himself.

Harry roughly lumbered inside. His face had a sweaty and exhausted look. His eyes stared dully at his surroundings, as if he was only half aware of what was going on. Lady Amande supported him over her shoulder. She looked sheepishly at Claris.

"Harry had a bit of a rough day. He used a lot of magic yesterday and he says it will keep him weak until he manages to get the cure from Earth, whatever that means. Anyway, he's all yours." And with that, Amande all but threw Harry's limp body into Cleveland's grasp. She then turned to leave.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I have to speak to my dear cousin Wellesley. He's the one who arranged all of this." She gestured around her. "I still need to discuss some of my demands. He sounds forthcoming in public but he still has a lot of doubts. I also have an appointment with the prime minister in the afternoon to flesh out some details, so I can't stick around. Anyway, have a good day."

Lady Amande left them with a half-dead Harry. Stumped, Claris looked at Cleveland. "What are we supposed to do with the captain? He looks like he needs a hospital?"

"If only we still had Dr. Selner. She'd know what to do."

Claris' mood dampened a little at the mention of that _whore_, but she quickly pushed it away and turned her attention back to Harry. "Do you need a doctor, sir?"

"Ngh.. no.. no doctors.. no hospitals.. just rest.."

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	32. I: Taking Possession - Repost

March 25, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Taking Possession_

* * *

Harry recovered most of his physical strength after a good long nap. He could walk with his own strength again. Yet as he let the hours go by he still felt the drain on his magic. The clock was ticking. He needed to leave Io and make for Earth as fast as possible.

As he finished packing up his luggage in those handy floating trunks, he called up Claris. She arrived quickly.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm done. It's time to leave the ship."

His Second nodded and wordlessly guided the trunks out of Harry's quarters and towards the main hatch where Cleveland would take it from there.

"Do you still need someone to carry you around?"

"I'm fine, Claris. I'm rather tired, but I'll manage."

They slowly trudged towards the airlock, both of them were aware that this was the last time they ever stepped foot on the old lady. After her free repair was finished, the _Eviscerator_ would be floated on auction on Zhang's suggestion. The former professor had noticed that Harry's new-found status had peaked quite a bit of interest from high society. Not one for missing opportunities, Harry went along with the idea. If he could squeeze more money out of his old ship, then all the better. He didn't have an immediate use out of all those credits but he was sure he'd need them later.

Claris smiled a little as she passed the empty and scrubbed corridors. The crew and house-elves spent much of the previous day getting rid of all of Harry's peculiar 'artwork'. It wouldn't do for whoever bought the ship to encounter them and discover the existence of magic.

As she passed the sterile walls, she looked back on her career on the Evie. Claris had come a long way from Captain Hargrave's command. Captain Harry delegated most of the tasks to her, allowing the budding officer to grow under Harry's leadership. Asking for a promotion wasn't just due to political concerns – the commander genuinely felt she deserved the rank. She was just one step short of becoming a full captain in the likes of Captain Gloria or Captain Rysa.

'_I'll miss you, Evie. You've given me good times and bad times, but you've always been there when I needed it. Farewell.'_

"Wait!" A wispy voice called out.

The pair turned to meet the intangible form of the ship's local ghost. Claris had completely forgotten about Dr. Arnaud. The sometimes useful ghost didn't often let himself be seen. She had a suspicion that Arnaud rather liked to keep an inquisitive eye on everyone.

"Please, do not leave me here. I cannot stand being alone. You and your crew are the only people I can interact freely with. Please take me with you to your new ship."

"And why should I care?" Harry mumbled, his mind still occupied on his coming trip to Earth.

"I can be of use to you. I can spy for you. Just unshackle me from these chains."

The captain peered into Arnaud's silvery eyes. "The only time I asked for your help was to gather intel on those psi-ops commandos wrecking my ship. You were remarkably unhelpful with that."

Arnaud flinched. "They were.. overwhelming. But I can be better, I promise. Just take me with you."

Harry was really tempted to leave the annoying ghost behind. He separated his soul from his body because he was an annoying git. That still hadn't changed. Yet, another part of his mind whispered to him that he could use a spy right now. He needed every single advantage he could get in order to expedite his journey to Earth, and hopefully, to his precious magical cache in the Himalayas.

He nodded and retrieved his Resurrection Stone. "Oh all right, but you better make it worth it or I'll leave you on the station."

"Whatever you say, my Lord."

"Good. The first thing you can do for me then is to spy on Fleet Admiral Wellesley. The stuck up prat doesn't like me, but he's forced to cooperate for the moment. I want you to follow him around in order to tell me what he's really up to. Got that?"

"Yes my Lord, I will do my best."

As the wizard loosened the bonds that kept the spirit rooted, Arnaud quickly sunk away before the wizard changed his mind. Harry shrugged and continued on to the exit. Cleveland saluted him and his escort and followed him out.

"Claris."

"Yes, sir?"

"Please call up all my current officers and prepare a meeting once I arrive at our new ship. I need to leave for Earth as quickly as possible and we need to formulate a new plan to do that. I want us to leave in ten days tops."

"B-But sir! That's impossible! It will take at least four weeks to hire enough spacers and let us become accustomed with the cruiser's unfamiliar systems. And didn't you plan to strengthen the hull of the _Immortal Marauder_?"

The captain made a pained grunt as he took a seat on their new hovercar Claris had procured sometime earlier. The cruiser had plenty of cargo space for a few amenities, and she figured they could use a car so that Harry could enchant later when he recovered his full might.

"I can't. It will take too much time I don't have. We'll just have to come up with a plan that keeps us out of combat."

'_We'd be hard pressed to do so with all the battle fleets patrolling every inch of Earth's middle orbit.'_ Claris absently thought. _'Still, it's not like we stand a chance even with strengthened hulls. I really wonder how Harry intends to tackle this problem.'_

The short trip to the Reyder & Whitlock shipyard passed on in silence. While Harry still brooded over his condition, Claris and Cleveland spent the trip coming to terms with Harry's ultimate objective.

'_By Mercury, we're actually heading into that death trap. Harry's completely serious.'_

Even if Harry told her a thousand times he intended to travel to Earth, she always put off thinking about it because it was so far away. Now, with a new ship and a free ticket for Io's Gravitic Catapult, they were actually doing it. A tiny spark of fear swelled up in her heart. She had let herself be carried away from all the hard-earned gains Harry managed to accrue in his short career.

Her thoughts were interrupted as they reached the shipyard. A security guard checked their credentials before passing them through. A man in a conservative white business vacsuit waited for them near the dock where their ship had been assembled. Harry and his subordinates exited the hovercar to greet the man.

"Lord Harry, I must say it is finally a pleasure to meet you, sir." The bearded fellow said as he shook Harry's hand. "I'm Stennis Reyder and I'm the CEO of Reyder & Whitlock Shipyards. If I may escort you inside?"

"Go ahead."

The businessman quickly went into a speech. "It was a great choice of you to choose Reyder & Whitlock for the construction of your ship, my Lord. We have over two hundred years of experience in assembling and upgrading warships up to cruiser class and we take pride in our dedication to quality and safety. Our experienced construction personnel always do their utmost best to see that the fittings remain secure, and our top procurement team only acquires the best materials from the most reputable suppliers."

The man continued to plump up his firm, proud that he had serviced the latest sensation in Ioan high society. His business had already seen an uptick of orders by 13%.

They finally reached the door that led to the vast chamber where Harry's ship lay in waiting. Reyder went up to the door and put in his security code. "Allow me."

The door parted, allowing Harry and Claris to receive their first glimpse of the massive three-hundred meter warship.

"Wow.. I hadn't imagined it would be so big."

The holographic schematics that Harry had used to design the ship didn't do justice to the imposing majesty of the _Immortal Marauder_. Her length was prodigious, longer even than the largest battleships the muggles used to come up with back in his own time. He spotted several Reyder & Whitlock-uniformed repair men putting their the finishing touches on the stealth-coated hull. A team of painters were even painting the name and serial code on her sides.

The _Marauder_ wasn't completely black, thank Merlin. Harry had absently requested some basic frills in order to pimp up her bland design, and the shipyard obliged by adding tasteful lines of red and gold that emphasized the ship's sharp cone-like profile. Even at this distance, he spotted the impressive horse-sized gunports and gunbarrels, all of which were currently sticking out of their protective armored shell in order to receive a final coat of heat-dispersing material.

At this angle, Harry was unable to observe the no-doubt massive engine thrusters at the stern, so instead he swept an appreciative eye at the ship's imposing bow. Four smaller varilaser demiturrets thrust out from the _Maurader_'s 'mouth', enough to make mincemeat out of frigates and put a serious dent into destroyers.

The ship didn't possess what Harry thought were eyes. Like the _Eviscerator_ and other combat-oriented vessels, the ship lacked any sort of viewports. Having windows built onto your warship was one of the most colossal blunders you could make, and Harry trusted Claris enough to pass on that feature. Yet he knew the bridge would be situated just behind the extra-thick plating, using a digital enhanced reality montage of the world outside to compensate for the lack of real imagery.

Round the back of the length he spotted a large ramp on the _Marauder_'s belly that was currently lowered to the floor. His own crew – just tiny specks against the vastness of his ship – were still in the process of loading containers into the cargo. He also knew that it would also be the main entry and exit point for the fighters they soon transferred over. Claris expressed her queasiness in letting the hangar bay and cargo bay share the same opening, but it was a compromise in the _Marauder_'s design that they couldn't get rid of without paying a prohibitive cost.

"Well Claris, let's take a look inside, shall we?"

"With pleasure, sir."

They approached the looming instrument of destruction with a mix of glee and satisfaction. While the _Eviscerator_ was a monster by herself, the _Marauder_ was practically a demon. Her smooth and elegant lines belied her deathly potential.

'_She's beautiful, and she's all mine.'_

As they reached the gangplank, Reyder stopped and retrieved a small ornate box out of his suit pocket. He offered it formally to Harry. "Please accept this."

The captain took it and gingerly opened it to find a gold-plated ship ring. He took it out of the box and held it against the light. _'It feels like solid gold.' _He then handed it to Claris who eagerly accepted the new ring. She put the ring on her finger and felt the incredibly complex piece of engineering resize itself to conform to her ring finger's size.

Reyder merely raised his eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead he guided his guests up the gangplank and through the main passenger hatch of the cruiser.

Unlike the black and moody exterior, the interior had been painted in a clean, white metallic tone. A few faint red and gold frills were evident, but they did not overpower the corridors. A few panels held some insignia, from the ship's name and serial number to the logo of Io's Privateer Force.

"We're currently at the middle decks of the ship." Reyder explained as he led them upwards. "This fine vessel has fifteen decks, roughly classified into three partitions, the upper, middle, and lower decks. The upper decks contain most of the command and computational functions, which includes the bridge and Ship Crystal. The middle bridge holds much of the functional portions such as the gun decks, mess hall, crew quarters and engineering. The lower decks carries the remaining tasks such as environmentals, cargo and the hangar bay."

They took the elevator to one of the top decks and walked forward until they reached a heavily armored hatch. Reyder put in his authorization code and the hatch slid open. They entered the bridge of the ship.

If the ship was like a castle, the bridge was her throne room. Rows of stations lined the expansive bridge in a V-shape, allowing each bridge officer to look up and oversee the vast digital display panes that were currently showing a fully radial view of the repair yard. Harry felt a bit disoriented first, but managed to adjust to the perspective. All the seats were of the latest protective design and would automatically cocoon over their occupants whenever something threatened them. If enemy boarders happened to penetrate the bridge, the seats could retract into the floor and deposit the officers onto a safer deck.

But Harry paid no mind to those functions. His eyes instead fixated on the seats in the center. Per his personal request, the shipyard custom-fitted an additional captain's seat next to the original one. This let him enjoy the same functionality that Claris had at her disposal when she captained the ship.

"You've done a marvelous job." He complimented Reyder, who positively beamed.

"It is my pleasure, sir. Now, let me show you the rest of this fine ship."

* * *

After completing the tour, they arranged a few more details. Reyder reluctantly gave them permission to let the _Immortal Marauder_ stay at the shipyard for another week. Harry figured he might need that extra time to make some additional modifications, and he didn't want to float outside in space to do so. As the CEO left their company, Harry finally gathered his officers and held the meeting at the _Marauder_'s luxurious conference room.

"I could get used to this." Cleveland sighed as he sank into the comfortable chairs.

"We've got business to do so don't fall asleep yet."

Captain Rysa was the last to arrive. She closed the hatch behind her before taking her own seat.

"Now that everyone is here, let us begin by planning our approach to Earth. As many of you are aware, I am severely limited in my magic. Due to recent events, that urgency has grown. I need to reach the surface of Earth in three weeks, or else I'll die."

The entire room sat stunned at the revelation. The less involved officers such as Navigator Jennings or Weapons Officer Stacy were not privy to all the news concerning Harry's state. They all knew that they had to travel to Earth eventually, but before now they always assumed they could take their sweet time and prepare at their leisure.

"Three weeks?" Rysa gasped. "But that's not enough time to recruit all the crew and officers we need to bring the ship up to full strength!"

"It also leaves you with little time to 'ward' the entire ship, sir." Zhang noted with a serious tone. "Our ship will be hard pressed to survive within Earth's security envelope even with strengthened armor. Without it and we can't even last an hour."

"I don't need you guys to stick around Earth's orbit. The only thing I need from the _Marauder _is deliver me to the surface of the planet. I can take it from there."

"We don't have enough information. It is helpful if you can expand on our mission's parameters." Claris advised, as she still had a lot of questions. "What do you need, and what do you expect us to do?"

"Well, I've given it a lot of thought in my free time." Harry said as he leaned back to gather his thoughts. "The most important objective is for me to reach the surface of the Earth safely. Preferably at particular locations around the globe where I hid my safe houses or magical caches. Each of them contains a portkey to my Mount Everest Cache which I absolutely need to reach in order to cure my debilitating curses."

"You don't need to bring anyone along, then?"

"That's not necessary. It'll be easier for me to hide from Earth's authorities if I move alone."

"But that still leaves us with the method of delivery. How on Mercury will the _Immortal Marauder_ survive that long to deliver Harry to the surface?"

They tossed a few ideas around, from letting the cruiser descend into orbit to letting it appear on the dark side of the moon. All of them were subsequently shot down as Earth's defenses were simply too formidable. They had to be in order to deter a raid or an invasion.

"It's obvious that we can't use a conventional approach." Claris concluded, having already expected this outcome. "We must use either stealth, misdirection or subterfuge. We can't afford to risk the _Marauder_ in any direct military action. Earth's highly advanced corporate fleets can tear us apart in seconds."

That vision brought everyone in a dampener. That was until Cleveland made a suggestion.

"Sir? I remember in one of our past boarding actions that you can teleport to the location of an item that you magicked beforehand. Can't we just appear in the edges of Earth's perimeter and launch it to Earth from there?"

Zhang snorted at the suggestion. "That object will be subject to intense amounts of radiation if it is in direct exposure of the sun, which might disturb the magical enchantment depending on whether there are any solar winds. It needs to be small enough to escape Earth's notice, but big enough to survive atmospheric entry. Even if it successfully punches through to the surface, I doubt it will stay intact."

"How large is Earth's security perimeter?" Harry asked.

Claris activated the central projector and brought up an image of the solar system. She zoomed in on Earth, with the Sun and Mars still in view. "Earth claims a vast territory, but it is not able to control it all. It doesn't need to anyway, since the majority of it is just empty space. In any event, Earth's outer border is right between Earth and Mars' orbits. Any ship that ventured beyond this border is fair game as far as our ancestral planet is concerned."

"But Earth effective security perimeter starts at Langrange Point 2, over here." Claris highlighted a spot away from Earth's orbit and a fair distance away from the Moon. "This gravitational deadpool here contains some of Earth's major expeditionary bases and is heavily guarded. At the other side of Earth's orbit is Lagrange Point 1, over here." She highlighted another spot between the Earth and the Sun, although this spot was very close to Earth itself. "Which contains another major military base. These two locations are Earth's major nodal defense points."

"And that's just the outer perimeter." Rysa commented as she spoke up for the first time. "The Moon is one giant base itself. Its orbit around the Earth forms the inner perimeter. and Earth's lower orbit is rife with defensive platforms and patrolling battle fleets."

"I see." Harry murmured as he took in the picture. "So if the _Immortal Marauder_ ends up outside the outer perimeter, there is little chance that Earth can catch up to her?"

"It depends heavily on where our exit point will be."

"What do you suggest, then?"

This led to a rather spirited debate between the participants. Claris, Jennings, Rysa and anyone else with navigating experience discussed whether to let the Gravitic Catapult throw them near Langrange 1 or 2, whether to go for a location up or down the solar plane, and what kind of residual momentum relative to Earth the ship should leave in. It was all very complicated for the science-challenged wizard, so he simply let the participants go at each other.

"Well? Have you come to a solution yet?"

"Sort of." Jennings let out, rather dissatisfied with the compromise they had reached. He wanted to let the _Marauder_ out well outside of L2, but Claris hammered for a more high risk insertion close to L1.

"We've decided to let the Gravitic Catapult launch us to this area." Claris highlighted a sphere close to L1 but significantly below the solar plane. "The relative positions of Earth and Jupiter allows us to launch our ship at a high relative velocity to Earth that will safely sail our ship away once we reach this location. Within this time we will be able to launch the object towards Earth without their defenders growing any wiser. Once that is taken care of, we can guide our ship towards Venus."

"It will take well over half a year to reach that planet at our relative velocity." Jennings noted critically. "We will have to stock up a lot of provisions and fuel for such a long trip."

"We don't have any alternatives. Earth won't allow us to use their own Gravitic Catapult."

This was a major sore point for the officers. Even if they managed to survive near Earth's security perimeter, they still had a very long way to go to get back to Jupiter. Heading for Venus and somehow gathering enough credits to use their own Gravitic Catapult was the least time-consuming method to get back home. Though Zhang questioned how they could spontaneously get the credits to pay for the passage.

"I'm sure Amande can loan us a few hundred million credits." Someone snorted, and that ended that line of inquiry.

The wizard was glad his advisers came up with a realistic plan. He wouldn't have been able to come up with the same by himself. "Alright, I think we have a decent plan in place for me to reach Earth. I assume we still have to make a lot of preparations. I want us to be ready to depart in one week. What do we need?"

"Well first we have to figure out what object we'll use to insert into Earth's atmosphere."

"I can help with that." Professor Zhang volunteered. "I'm a specialist in materials science. I can specify the object's shape, size and composition in order for it to be able to escape notice and survive atmospheric entry. I think we should disguise the object's outer layers as an asteroid rock at the very least."

"Great, I'll leave you with that responsibility then."

"We'll need to procure enough provisions to last at least six months in space, with a safety margin of three months on top of that." Claris supplied. "We will have to spend a lot of credits to keep our entire crew going."

"A week is far too little time to gather all of the crew!" Rysa interrupted. "You'd be running a skeleton crew."

"Our ship doesn't need a full crew just to drop me off on Earth, right?" Harry pondered loudly. "I know we'll feel a lot more comfortable if we had a full complement, but I can't afford to stay in Io for much longer. We will just have to contend with a skeleton crew then. As long as the ship can move in space, that's enough for me. We don't need to have the guns manned."

"That's a very dangerous choice." Jennings warned, and called up a plot that showed a heat map of pirate activity. "The area between Earth and Venus is mostly empty, but there's still a certain risk the closer we get to Venus. Once any attackers notice we can't fire our guns, they will be all over us."

"One week." Harry repeated. "We have one week to make our preparations, and not a day more. Creating that portkey will probably eat up another week, bringing my deadline even closer. I really cannot afford to linger any longer just so we can strengthen our ship. We have to make what we do with our limited resources and that's it. Now, do you have any further questions?"

The meeting quickly wrapped up, and everyone went on their separate ways. Some of the participants were still dazed at the fact that they would be leaving for Earth in just a single week, with a skeleton crew on top of that! Claris already thought there was no way they would gather enough crewmen to man all the guns, much less more than four. Environmentals would be relatively okay, especially with a diminished crew, but engineering would be a real pinch. They needed an expert in large vessel propulsion, and those were hard to come by outside the military and merchant circles.

* * *

The men and women under Harry's service went into full drive. No one wanted this trip to go wrong, if only because they didn't want to blow themselves up. While the ship had been delivered in an operational state, it came with little else. The crew had to go out and procure a lot of other necessities such as tools, weapons, spare parts, food, water, fuel and a million other little things. They also needed to familiarize themselves with the functions of the ship and be able to operate it without crashing into something. Transferring from a frigate-sized ship like the _Eviscerator_ to a cruiser required a radical rethinking in terms of structure, delegation, and of course staffing.

Harry's most experienced spacers – mostly the ex-pirates – all hung around the usual drinking holes and led a steady trickle of spacers back who were disillusioned at their current assignments. The more proper contingent of Harry's crew visited the public job markets instead, but had less luck in drawing interested spacers with the proper qualifications – serving on a privateer ship was not a very popular assignment, particularly one with Harry's reputation for trouble. Captain Rysa meanwhile made good on her promise and found some very interesting officers that brought the _Marauder_'s organizational capability to an adequate level. Most of them were simply ensigns who missed out on ship assignments, but Rysa also managed to snag two lieutenants, one of them with vital expertise in engineering.

Amande had been surprisingly forthcoming on the staffing issue as well. She somehow managed to push Lord Wellesley into offering them transfers from the Expeditionary Fleet. Claris advised Harry against accepting the offer however.

"These are servicemen with entrenched loyalty to the Navy. You'll never be able to gain control over them."

That ended the matter right there and then, as Harry preferred to rely on an undercrewed but loyal ship than the opposite. The slow pace of recruiting meant that they barely managed to top 250 men, just about half to what was needed to crew the _Immortal Marauder_ to its full capacity. Gunnery, environmentals, damage control and the hangar bay would be working at a fraction of their full potential, as most freely allocated personnel were assigned to more important posts such as engineering, sensors and environmentals. Warships had very little automation to speak of to prevent hacking and other electronic disruptions, so the underpowered sections of the ship could not function beyond the absolute minimum.

Everything slowly came together for Harry, who used his time drawing up critical low-powered rituals throughout the ship. Every spell he cast was a careful investment. Each rune he drew took a small piece of his magic with him, costing him previous minutes later on. Yet he persevered; if the _Marauder_ was destroyed before he arrived on Earth, he'd be dead as well. If the _Marauder_ met her end even after he arrived on the surface, he'd have no way back to space except stealing another ship, and that was something he was not too comfortable with. He'd rather stick with his current support base than start up a new one.

That line of thought made him realize he had become quite attached to his crew. Claris, Cleveland, Zhang, Amande, Rysa and the others were all his supporters. While many of them initially came unwillingly, they all adapted to life under Harry's service. The wizard regarded himself better than old Voldemort in that matter – unlike the long-dead Dark Lord, he had subjects who were _truly_ loyal to him and were not in just for their own greed.

There were a few who never did come to like Harry or his lifestyle. Zhang's suggestion of starting up a small repair yard on Io provided the perfect avenue for relief for these kinds of people. Claris reluctantly volunteered Captain Rysa as the Chief Executive Officer, with Terry alongside as the Chief Financial Officer. Rysa had no experience in the business world while Terry had little experience in anything for that matter, but Harry was not that terribly concerned. Amande graciously offered to supervise Harry's new holdings on Io and provide the crucial contacts that were needed to start a promising venture. A business actively sponsored by a House always enjoyed more activity. To help the business along, Harry allocated half of his house-elves to Rysa's command.

One small matter remained when it was time to register the corporate entity. It needed a name.

"How about just Harry Corp?" The wizard suggested. "I don't really want anything fancy."

"You idiot." Amande responded as she tapped Harry lightly on the head. "Harry Corp sounds too generic; you'll have a field day in court as there must be millions of other corporations in the solar system containing the word 'Harry'."

"Well, why don't you think of something then?"

"Okay… how about.. Wizard Solutions?"

"Absolutely not. I don't want to draw the attention of any possible surviving magical in the solar system by having a magic-themed name. Try something else, something completely unrelated to magic."

"Umm.. Firestorm Solutions?"

"Hmm.. it's kind of related to magic.. and kind of not." Harry shook his head. "I don't really care. If the name's available, then take it. It sounds kind of cool."

That became the start of Firestorm Solutions. Amande, Rysa, Terry and a handful of other crew and house-elves devoted their time setting up their business, taking it out of Harry's hands, which suited him just fine. He only had three days left until he reached his self-imposed deadline.

'_Three more days until I return to the planet that birthed me. I look forward to regaining my magic potential.'_

His thoughts were interrupted as his comm unit received a priority message. Harry took out his pad and read the words. Fleet Admiral Wellesley summoned him for an urgent meeting. Harry also had to come alone.

A bit annoyed that at the loss of precious time, he sent a message back that contained a polite (as far as he was able) refusal.

Wellesley prodded him back with another message, this time threatening to send his marines if Harry didn't get off his butt.

"Fucking Antares!"

Harry abandoned his work on the ship and called up a taxi to take him to the hotel that Wellesley had specified. Whatever the stuck up admiral wanted, Harry would stick it right back up his arse. The wizard was in no mood for politics.

'_Wasn't Amande supposed to take care of him? Perhaps I need another word with her when I return. And where's Arnaud?'_

The ghost hadn't reported back to Harry yet, so the wizard supposed that there wasn't anything urgent enough for Dr. Arnaud to bring to Harry's personal attention. Whatever Wellesley wanted, Harry really hoped it wasn't trivial enough for him to waste two hours travelling back and forth. That would really ruin his day.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	33. I: Feminine Wiles - Repost

March 26, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Censored Version  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Feminine Wiles_

* * *

The taxi dropped Harry off at arguably the most expensive hotel in the military station. The Yellow Moon regularly entertained visiting dignitaries from other colonies or planets and were used to providing the best to the best. But Harry wasn't interested in spending the night here. All he had in mind was the strange message Lord Wellesley sent him. _'Why make me go all the way to a hotel?'_

He entered the richly furnished lobby and handed his datapad to the receptionist. "Someone's expecting me."

"Good day, sir." The attractive woman greeted him, and picked up the pad. "Let me see… ah yes, we received notification of your arrival. You are expected at room 824 at the eight floor. Will you need a guide or will that be all, my Lord?"

"I'm sure I can figure out the directions. Thanks."

The elevator was easy enough to figure out, and the hallways contained handy electronic guides that immediately led Harry towards room 824. He pressed the ringer.

The light placed on the door in front of him turned into green. He opened the door, and stepped inside.

Sitting on the red, stretching couch was the most beautiful blond woman he had ever seen. "Star." Harry faintly recognized her. Her smooth golden tresses flowed down her back like a gentle feather. Her slim white dress hug her body tightly – tantalizing enough to promise more, but modest enough to be decent in public. Her dress ended at her knees, allowing the boy to catch a full glimpse of her pale, flawless legs. The goddess leaned on the couch and stretches herself slightly, showing off her limber muscles.

"Captain Harry. I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time. Please, sit."

Captivated by her beauty, Harry numbly obeyed. His feet trudged towards the couch and he sat himself on the only space available, next to her feet. The position afforded him a generous view of the woman, from the lean swell of her pert upper torso to the Venus between her legs. It took all of his self-control to keep himself from flinging at her body. She looked a hundred times better in person than through a holo display.

Star's vivacious lips curled upwards, as if she knew very well what effect she had on Harry. "You're a very hard man to chase, captain. Playing hard to get?"

"Ermm.. sorry?" Harry started to get really warm and sweaty under his vacsuit despite the anti-perspiration functions it contained.

"It's alright. I forgive you."

"So.. what's this all about? I thought you only needed a job done."

The woman sensually shifted her legs before she answered. "This is much more than just about a simple job, my dear. My benefactors have taken a particular interest in you. More importantly, _I'm_ interested in you."

".. uhuh.."

"Speechless, are you?" Star smirked, and stretched her bare leg just enough to caress Harry's leg. The boy almost moaned out in ecstasy. "Perhaps if this meeting goes well.."

Her unworded promise made Harry's imagination go wild. He wanted to rip the dress from Star's ripe body and mash her balloons. He wanted to catch her lips with his, then drag her head downwards to feel her tingling tongue on his raging hard excitement. He wanted to flip her back and spend the entire day consummating her body until all his body fluids dried up.

"My benefactors would like to propose.. a partnership with you. You're a very interesting person, Harry. Perhaps no pirate captain has been more successful than you. Io isn't capable of appreciating someone with your talents. Am I right?"

The wizard nodded frantically, all the while enjoying Star's teasing ministrations with her foot. "They've been a lot of trouble.. but I need them in order to be able to use their Gravitic Catapult."

"Tsk tsk. Io isn't the only entity in the solar system who can provide you with a Gravitic Catapult. My benefactors are very powerful. They can provide you with _everything_ you desire. _Anything_ you want is yours, Harry. Just ask, and _I'll_ do my best to _please_ your desires."

'_I'd love to strip my pants and let your small soft hands wrap around my sensitive skin.'_ He thought, but shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, but I doubt anyone could give me what I want. I.. I need to go to Earth and retrieve something I buried there long ago."

The radiant blond bombshell frowned a little, and Harry felt terrible for marring her features.

"That is.. regrettable. Surely we can't come to an alternative arrangement? Tell me what you need, and I'll do my very best to satisfy your needs."

'_She could start by bending over.'_ Gulping loudly, Harry pulled his mind out of the gutter long enough to say something decent. "It's rather unique. There's no organization in the world that can give me what I want. I _have_ to get to Earth."

The mood suddenly seemed to grow more intense as Star stared intensely in his eyes. Harry felt incredibly clammy inside his suit. Slowly, Star leaned up from her languishing pose and instead bent forward, inadvertently providing Harry with the bare hint of her incredible cleavage.

"It's not nice to keep secrets, Harry. You _will_ give me what I want." She stated forcefully as she continued to lean until she fell upon all fours. Star flipped her head, allowing her glowing blond hair to flow around her gorgeously perfect face. "I can be very _grateful_ if you do."

Star crawled forward like a tiger. Her exaggerated posture gave Harry an excellent glimpse of her bare shoulders. Her captivating eyes honed in on Harry's and he felt nothing else but lust. When Star reached his body, she slowly, sensually crawled upwards, leaving small kisses on his suit along the way until she reached his bare neck. The woman pounced on him, molding her supple and curvaceous body against his skin-tight vacsuit, allowing him to feel _every_ contour of his body.

"Oh god!" Harry stammered as Star latched on his neck and suckled his bare skin. "Y-You're incredible!"

She indulged him a little more before retracting her head. She licked her lips and smirked at her dazzled prey. "Wouldn't you like my lips to kiss you somewhere else?" The woman then bumped his roaring rod with her waist and made an audible gasp before turning back to her smirk. "Oh, you _stud_. I'm sure we'll go along just fine."

As his self-control fell apart, Harry dove at Star and captured her lips with his. He kissed her hard as he wrapped his arms around her willing body. One hand curled around her tiny waist while his other hand gripped her silky platinum hair. "You're so beautiful."

"Ah-Ah-Ah." Star admonished as she pulled back from his greedy lips. "Not just yet, my dear." Her finger pressed against Harry's nose, then slowly dragged down, brushing against his lips and all the way down his body until it reached his lower fire. Her nail scratched the vacsuit that was straining at his swelling until it reached the tip of his most sensitive spot. It pulsed under her touch.

"What.. what do you want?"

"I want to know _everything_. Tell me what you left behind on Earth and why it's so important for you to travel there." She leaned forward and tickled the lobes of his ear before she whispered huskily, "If you can give me that, then you can do _anything_ you want with me. I'll be your plaything for the night."

He wanted to. Harry really wanted to blur out all his secrets, damn his paranoia, and force his batter down her throat. He wanted to ravage her tight little body and paint her insides white. He wanted to press his pipe between her soft and supple globes and give her a pearl necklace. He wanted to do so many things to her that telling the woman his secret was a small price to pay.

'_But do I really want to reveal such a thing to a stranger?'_

Seeing the doubt in her objective's eyes, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. Her radiant brown and green eyes stared at his own green orbs.

'_Oh Merlin..'_

Her incredibly intense stare practically made him cream his suit. His hands left her body to tug at his fastenings. _'C'mon damnit how do I get it off of me.'_

"What's your secret, Harry? Tell me."

"I-I-It's something that's been dead for a while. You won't believe it, but I'm actually a wi—"

The boy abruptly stopped himself as realization struck. His body turned cold and his arousal left him completely. His docile face slowly warped into fury. "You." He hissed. "You did something to me."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Star was confused and also a little scared at her prey's sudden reversal. What was happening? How could he shrug off her seduction?

He struck as fast as lightning. His palm whipped her cheek, throwing her bodily against the seat of the couch. "Don't play games with me, _Veela_." Before Star could recover, Harry went forward and wrapped both his hands against her fragile neck, squeezing hard and making the woman pop her eyes. "Tell me _everything_ you know and I might not just kill you."

The woman scrabbled weakly against his grip as she gurgled desperately against Harry's choking grip. Eventually, Harry let up the pressure, allowing her to speak.

"..E..Ether..help.."

A powerful electric shock washed against Harry's back but splashed over it without really harming him. The wizard recognized one of his wards had expended itself and turned around to see a vaguely familiar man in a skin-tight combat suit. The man fired another shot off his stungun, but Harry had already rolled away from the couch, letting Star take the hit.

"AGH!"

As Ether readjusted his aim, Harry quickly lifted the fragile crystalline coffee table and threw it at the armed man. The object shattered against his form, making him lose his grip as the mass pushed him back against the curtain he had been hiding behind. Harry barely lost a beat and went for his revolver. With a practiced motion he lifted his firearm, aimed at his prone target, and fired a blood-fueled reductor blast that shattered Ether's chest into a fountain of gore.

"Asshole." Harry spat at the corpse while readying himself for another attack. He kept himself in cover as he checked the entire room for any other hidden attackers. Only after he checked all of the rooms in the hotel suite did he lower his guard a little. He stared at Star's unconscious body. _'Even out cold she still looks ravishingly hot.'_

But this was no time to think with his lower brain. Reluctantly he tapped his wrist comm, opening up an audio link to his ship. "Cleveland, are you there?"

"What do you need, captain?"

"I'm at the Yellow Moon hotel in the military station and I managed to escape from a trap. I have one corpse and one prisoner. I need you to send me a discrete security team to collect the prisoner quietly and dispose of the body and any markings I left behind."

"Very well, sir, I'll send in the First Squad and—"

"Hold it, Cleve. Don't' send in the First Squad. Bring me a team of _women_. I don't want to see any men, not even you."

"..Can I ask why, sir?"

"That's.. too sensitive to discuss over a comm link. Suffice to say my prisoner has an _unnatural_ effect on men."

"..Understood. I'll assemble a team and send out the hovercar. We'll take care of the cleanup. Cleveland, out."

As the communication link closed, Harry turned his attention back at the sexy blond woman all splayed out against the couch. He couldn't imagine why Veela still lived – he thought all magical creatures had gone extinct once he destroyed magic on Earth. _'Perhaps she's descended from a half-breed like Fleur or Gabrielle. Could Star's ancestors have enough humanity within their souls to survive the magical holocaust?'_ Those were just a fraction of the questions he had for Star. As much as he liked to kill her and harvest her parts for magical rituals, he had to keep her alive in order to extract her secrets.

'_Besides,'_ Harry thought lewdly as his eyes drew at her breathing bosom. _'She could prove a lot of fun. I always wanted to have a pet Veela.'_

* * *

Cleveland's security team gained entry easily enough. They came dressed in civvies and rented a pair of rooms on the eight floor. The floating coffins that appeared to contain their luggage were instead meant to carry two bodies. As Harry let them in the hotel room, they quickly went to work. A pair immediately went for Star and restrained her in gravitic cuffs before lifting her in one of the coffins. Another pair went for Ether's corpse and disposed it into another coffin before cleaning the rest of their remains. The remaining women swept the room for traces and surveillance devices. They found a few bugs which they quickly squashed.

"Does that mean that someone saw what has happened here?"

The stern woman nodded. "Yes, sir. We can't trace the signal."

Harry cursed softly and dismissed the soldier. _'This is all grand. I'm not sure how much the bugs have caught, but I'm pretty certain whoever Star reports to will come looking for me later on. I hope they haven't figured out I'm a wizard.'_

He spent the next few minutes glowering at the ramifications of the incident as he kept an eye on his subordinates. Harry couldn't recognize any of them. _'They're all new recruits.'_ He realized, and felt a little exposed being surrounded by untested minions.

Nothing happened to him. Despite branding his mark on them a few days ago, the women didn't seem displeased in any way. Claris and her crew had selected them well. _'We did hire our boarders— marines now, I should call them, from the dregs of the Navy. None of them have homes.'_

Claris actually reported to him that security was one area where they didn't come up short. His ship could easily garrison an extra hundred trained marines, but the captain didn't want to push his luck. Having so many soldiers proficient in personal combat outnumber his regular crew might make it harder for him or Claris to control the ship. He reluctantly set a limit of seventy-five marines. _'It's not like we need any more since I don't expect to go into battle any time soon.'_

The lead sergeant then went up to him and saluted crisply, as if she was still in the Navy. "We've completed our tasks, sir. We've safely retrieved the assets and finished our sweep of the suite. Would you like an escort back to the _Marauder_?"

"Lead the way."

Despite the unusual sight they made, the party left the hotel without incident. They took the ship's hovercar back to the shipyard and quietly drove up the hangar bay. As its passengers disembarked, the sergeant turned to Harry.

"What would you like us to do with the assets, sir?"

"Stow the corpse in our morgue." The wizard was eager to find out if Ether was another magical or not. "Put our prisoner in the brig. Pass onto Chief Cleveland that she should be guarded exclusively by women. Don't let any men have the opportunity to talk or even see her. I'm not sure if the security cameras will also allow her to use her allure, but I don't want to risk it. Got that, sergeant?"

"Crystal, sir." The grim marine gave him another crisp salute before passing out orders.

Suddenly feeling the need for a shower, Harry left the hangar bay and entered the elevator to the top deck which housed all the officer quarters. Commander Claris awaited him outside the elevator.

"What are you doing here, Claris?"

"Cleveland informed me of the incident. If you're not too bothered, could you please explain what happened?"

He sighed. "I suppose."

* * *

Harry didn't have a lot of time left to interrogate Star, so he let her stew in the bridge while he worked on the ship. While the chances of engaging in combat was fairly low, he didn't want to risk his investment.

Claris handled other matters concerning the ship, in particular working in their new crew. Io was a much larger colony than the single pirate station they had previously picked up the former slave crew. In addition, the moon was a major trading nexus in the solar system, allowing the commander to hire from a much larger pool of labor. She specifically went after men and women who would rebel the least when they received the Mark, and so far it had paid off.

Lieutenant Pierce Menzies was another new recruit, but unlike the rest of the crew he had been approached by Rysa. She recognized his dissatisfaction at being denied a promotion while getting on his thirties. Anyone who had one look at his qualifications – in particular engineering – would have valued him better. But Menzies was a typical victim of Navy politics. He had gotten on the bad side of a House brat back in the academy, and it seemed the entire family still did everything they could to cripple his career. He never enjoyed another ship-board assignment after his traineeship had passed and despite his extensive studies, not a single captain picked him up.

He had despaired over his situation and thought about resigning his commission to serve in the merchant fleet, if not for Captain Rysa's intervention. Her pitch sounded perfect – serve on a cruiser, see the galaxy, fight lots of pirates and earn mountains of credits. The old woman even provided him with this Captain Harry's track record to show him proof.

Then came the hullaballoo of magic. Frankly, the existence of magic didn't bother him as much as the other new crewmen. While it was fascinating to see those weird extraterrestrials called 'house-elves' perform miraculous feats, the lieutenant's attention had rather strayed towards the person laying out their new ground rules.

Commander Claris was beautiful. From her full raven hair, to her astonishingly perfectly proportioned figure, everything about her was absolutely smashing. Menzies barely listened to her explain how their service to Harry was eternal, that they would be punished harshly if they attempted to betray him or try to reveal the existence of magic, how they were basically nothing but slaves and that they should listen to everything he says because he was the king. He didn't care, because all he could think of was kissing his stern and somewhat scary superior officer.

After that introductory talk, he quickly settled in with the rest of the crew. Despite having been bamboozled into service, he came to enjoy it. He had his own private quarters with the comfiest bed in the world. The officer's mess served restaurant-quality meals. His subordinates at engineering weren't all too bad – though they could use a firmer hand in discipline – and his fellow chiefs and officers were amiable enough to him. He already made friends with Felicity, the perky young and recently promoted gunnery lieutenant, who showed him all the ropes.

One strange thing about being in Captain Harry's service was that they operated a lot looser than a proper navy ship. _'Scratch that,'_ Menzies thought, _'They're practically still pirates in all but name.'_ Interaction was quite informal, and the enlisted crewmen didn't care to display even a whimper of proper decor to their officers. It bothered Menzies a lot at first, but after Felicity eased him in to the pirate culture, he came to appreciate the warmth of informality.

Another peculiar point about this informality was that everyone addressed each other with a single name. Menzies didn't know Felicity's last name. Nor did he know anyone else's first or last name, depending on which name they wanted to be known as. Some people even confessed they were known by aliases they chose for themselves because they wanted to separate themselves from their old lives.

He was half-glad the crew chose to call him by Menzies instead of Pierce. To the crew, Menzies was a lot more unique and memorable than Pierce. For him, he wouldn't think he'd ever grow comfortable if a subordinate called him by his first name on the job. He'd been granted at least that small comfort.

Serving on an active warship was his dream, and he was living it, even if the _Immortal Marauder_ was a privateer and not a proper navy vessel. Serving alongside a beautiful officer such as Claris made his dream even better. Oh, he heard the rumors. That she used to be a hardcore pirate. That she still was one at heart. That she was the captain's bedwarmer. That she was pining over the captain. It didn't matter. She was even more beautiful if she had raped and pillaged a lot of ships because it proved that she possessed an iron will beneath her beautiful exterior. And the rumors of her being involved with the captain were obviously not true, since everyone told him he was pining over some medical officer called Dr. Selner. Besides, Menzies thought, the horndog was also married to a beautiful young Antares girl.

That meant Commander Claris was available. Despite the old crew's warnings about having eyes on her, Menzies didn't heed them. The strong, competent and forceful officer had no boyfriend, and that was all he cared about. Every time she came to visit him down at engineering to hear his progress, he became more smitten with her. Even after she left he'd dream about her in his arms as he smelled the sillage of her exquisite perfume. Even if Felicity started to give him subtle signals, his heart already belonged to Claris.

He sighed, and lay back on his cot after another hard day of preparing the ship for departure. "Computer, please project image ."

The holoprojectors of his quarters beamed a spiting three-dimensional image of Commander Claris. The image portrayed the officer in her most magnificent. Claris stood upright with one hand against her side with the other pointing outward. She wore a peculiar dark red niform that was supposedly her pirate outfit. Menzies didn't care as the uniform brought out all her shapely fit body.

He had downloaded the ultra-definition image off the ship's informal shipnet. It appeared a technician secretly made the recording while the commander had been at work in the hangar bay, then spread it out among the other images floating around in the shipnet. The local network was crawling with candid images of all the women aboard the _Marauder_, some of them even borderline explicit. Claris had the largest collection of images, of course, and Menzies didn't doubt that half of the ship had downloaded it all to their private computing units. The engineering lieutenant certainly did the same the first chance he got.

"Computer, please zoom in on the upper torso, 200%."

Menzies lowered his pants and started to do his daily ritual. "Oh Claris..."

* * *

They had less than one day left before the _Immortal Marauder_ would depart for Earth. Amande had invited Harry (and only him) for a small dinner together with Wellesley and another naval officer. After making sure the request was genuine this time, Harry left the shipyard to join them at a restaurant. At least the establishment wasn't too far.

"Harry!" Amande called out from a private theater. "I'm glad you came. Come and have a seat, dear."

The wizard reluctantly took the remaining chair in the private corner of the Africa-themed restaurant. A waiter smoothly approached him and dropped him a menu before treading back. He took one look at the items and could already tell he would have little success figuring out the items.

Amande gave him a small adoring smile. "Oh, I forgot. Here, let me order for you." She took the menu and ratted off a series of dishes to the waiter, who dutifully noted the items before retrieving the menu. "You should really visit these places more often, Harry."

He shrugged without committing to her request and instead asked, "Why am I here?"

"Ah, it is I who requested your presence, Captain Harry." Lord Wellesley answered, and gestured to his companion who sat next to him. "This is Admiral Noah Turner, who heads the Expeditionary Fleet. He is your direct superior."

"A pleasure to meet you." Admiral Turner greeted Harry coolly. "I have to admit that I wanted to see you in person at least once before you go charging through the Gravitic Catapult. We here in the Expeditionary Fleet don't often let cruisers go willy-nilly wherever they please."

If Harry was supposed to be stung by the remark, he reveal it. "I own 100% of the _Immortal Marauder_. It's my ship and I can damn well do as I please with it. I'm not even part of the regular ranks of the Expeditionary Fleet so I don't even see why I should give a care about your opinions."

Turner's face grew red as he heard the impertinent captain deny him the respect he was due. Before he could talk the captain down, Wellesley quickly intervened.

"Turner, please, sit back. I've already told you about Captain Harry's lack of decorum. You promised you wouldn't take it personal."

The admiral regretted his promise, but nodded out of deference to his superior. "You are right. It is unbecoming of me."

Their meals arrived shortly after that, which made for a convenient pause in the conversation. Everyone picked quietly at their food as they thought about their next words. Only Harry still didn't have a clue. _'Why the heck am I enjoying this overpriced food when I could be back at my ship?'_

Somewhere midway, Lord Wellesley started again. "Captain Harry, Amande has informed us you intend to use the Gravitic Catapult to travel to Earth for.. personal reasons."

"More like suicidal ones, I bet." Turner snorted, only to receive a glare from Amande. "I'm just stating the obvious here."

"As I said before," Harry repeated as he turned down his fork and knife. "I don't give a damn about your opinions. I have something to retrieve on Earth and I don't plan to die. That is all."

"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind doing us a small favor while you're there." Wellesley added. "After all, Earth has been closed to us 'colonists' since the last Earth-Martian War. While we can eavesdrop on their communications, we don't really know everything we wish to know."

"Oh? What do you need me to fetch?"

Wellesley nodded to Turner, who bent under the table to retrieve a small brown suitcase. The admiral opened it to reveal a host of needles and medical equipment.

"One of the things that Earth is persistently hiding is the genetic profile of its citizens. If you happen to either board one of their ships or land upon the surface of the planet through whatever means, we wish for you to withdraw a blood or tissue sample from as many Earthers as you can. We haven't obtained a solid profile for over two hundred years. We need to know their state of genetic modification."

"And why should I go through the trouble of performing this little errand of yours?"

"Don't you possess any ounce of loyalty to Io?" Turner asked belligerently. "Service is its own reward. No privateer has ever questioned an order from us."

"I'm not your average privateer." Harry replied coolly as he crossed his arms. "Besides, you probably expect me to die when I'm there, so I don't think there's any problem if I fail to deliver you the items."

Amande discretely coughed and bumped Wellesley's arm, who fumbled a little before adding, "Now now, let us not be so unfriendly. I am sure that Io will feel grateful enough for Harry's service that it can reward him for the successful completion of our favor. Several hundred millions, if the samples are adequate."

"I'll hold you to your word."

The rest of the dinner passed relatively uneventfully, and the two admirals departed their company, leaving Harry alone with his wife.

"I've missed you, Harry. You're always busy with that big ship of yours. You never even came to visit my new apartment. I hope you don't mind that I've paid two million to secure our new home at the Antares District."

"Two million credits!?" Harry almost spat out the sundae he was munching on. "Are you insane? Couldn't you have rented it instead?"

"If I rented the place then I don't own the full rights to refurbish it in any way I want. Who knows what cameras or other surveillance devices my landlord could place if he still had control. It's much better for me to buy it outright and renovate it to my tastes."

"And how much did this 'renovation' cost?"

"Only about seven-hundred-thousand, but be grateful I didn't purchase top-of-the-line furniture. I do have _some_ sense of frugality, you know."

"Did you even consider asking me when you decided to splurge two-point-seven million credits of _my_ credits on _your_ apartment?"

The girl let out a little laugh. "Oh dear, it's not my apartment, it's _our_ apartment. You can come by and crash whenever you like. I'm sure you'll love it when you see it. Perhaps tonight?"

"I'm sorry, I have to return to the _Marauder_ and finish my work. Every minute counts. I can't afford to skimp on anything that might impact the survival of my vessel."

"Oh come _on_, Harry." Amande whined at him as she took his hands with her own. "You're my husband but you hardly spend any time with me. I'm sure your ship will still stay in one piece even if you miss a night. Haven't you spent a lot of time on it already? You deserve a reprieve."

As Amande squeezed his hands, Harry figured he did work himself to exhaustion over the last week. He needed to be fresh and ready for his upcoming trip to Earth. Perhaps a final night together with Amande would prove relaxing. He smiled and squeezed back. "Okay honey. I'll come with you."

"Great! Let's take the transit out to Antares Station. The trip will take a bit long but I assure you that you won't regret it. I've got the most fabulous entertainment system, and I'm certain that you'll enjoy the sauna."

Amande led him out of the restaurant and into a taxi. This might be their last night together, and Harry thought he could indulge his second wife with a moment together. It might very well be their last.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	34. I: In Transition - Repost

March 27, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Censored Version  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_In Transition_

* * *

The day of their departure had come. Since his awakening in this new era, he had been working for this moment. All the combat, deaths and credits led Harry to a position where he was finally able to travel to Earth. For the first time in nine hundred years, he would be returning to the planet that birthed him. The wizard was already looking forward for his homecoming.

Over two-hundred-and-fifty men and women now served on the _Immortal Marauder._ The expansive bridge was as fully manned as it could be with the amount of officers and technicians his men had been able to recruit in such short time. The rest manned their stations throughout the skyscraper-sized warship.

"Lieutenant Menzies, are the engines warmed up yet?" Commander Claris queried through the comm unit embedded in her own captain's seat.

"A-Ah yes ma'm, they're hot for departure!"

"Lieutenant Felicity, are our guns still secure?"

"Aye aye, Claris. Our forward guns and broadsides are all restricted."

The commander turned to Defense Officer Blake, who manned a station close to the central seats. "How's our armor integrity holding up, and are our point defense guns secure?"

"They're fine on both counts, ma'm. Our reactive armor is also secure in their nettings. They won't discharge on accident."

"Good." Claris held up the hand that held her ship ring and opened a comm channel to the shipyard. "Mr. Reyder, the _Immortal Marauder_ is ready for departure."

"We are retracting the hangar doors now. I wish you godspeed on your maiden voyage, and may I say again that it has been a pleasure doing business with you. May I also remind you that repeat customers enjoy a 2.3% discount on future purchases. Reyder & Whitlock Shipyards, out."

"Well Captain, would you do the honors?"

"Gladly." Harry then sat up straighter on his own seat and issued his next words with his best commanding voice. "_Immortal Marauder_, commence departure!"

"Nicholas, initiate undocking."

"Aye aye, ma'm, easing the lady out of the shipyard now."

Harry tensed as he felt the huge ship rumble under its own strength. He could see on one of the display panels that the massive tubular engines lit up, providing essential thrust that started to push the ship out into space.

Controlling a huge and complex war machine was not as simple as keeping your steering wheel in the center. The helmsman, navigator and engineer had to weave a fine balance between a hundred different variables, from the slight off-balanced centering of mass to the split of local gravity inside the hangar versus zero-g just outside of it. If Harry sat at the helm alone, he would doubtlessly cause the Marauder to pitch upwards and crash his expensive cruiser against the roof, causing catastrophic damage to the entire station.

But he didn't entrust his crew to these men for nothing. Together, his crew worked diligently to monitor all discrepancies and pass it along the chain in order for it to be compensated by someone in control. And Helmsman Nicholas did his very best steering the massive cruiser out the hangar doors safely and without scratching any coating.

One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Three minutes passed. Finally the spacers breathed easily and cheered as the undocking maneuver went smoothly. Claris positively beamed at Harry. "Our ship has undocked successfully, captain. Shall I put us in the queue for the Gravitic Catapult?"

"Of course. Start immediately."

"Navigator, contact traffic control and request a plot for the Gravitic Catapult."

"Aye aye, commander."

The excitement of a successful launch slowly made way for patient satisfaction as the shining new vessel started to accelerate to her assignment path. The rumbling of the engines ceased completely as the ship's inertial dampeners had come to full power, negating any possible vibration. The _Marauder_ ran as smooth as she could ever be, though Claris warned Harry that first voyages always revealed potential problems.

Yet, as the ship slowly eased her way in line behind the massive cargo vessels heading to their next trading stop, the boy felt completely sure his ship would not fall apart. As it took up to an hour for the current line to clear, Harry contented himself by watching the other vessels launch through the Catapult.

The device was immense, dwarfing even the giant _Marauder_. The massive circular structure had been built to accommodate superfreighters. Like the old Suez and Panama Canals of his Old Earth, these advanced instruments provided a vital shortcut for trade between the eight planets. Harry followed an ore barge as it closed the distance to the white-coated device. The rings along its length started to energize and spin. Arcs of lethal electricity sparked along the rings, growing ever more wild and erratic as the rings spun in different directions. As the barge finally passed through the Catapult, the arcs of lightning spun but did not quite touch the vessel.

Then, as if an elastic band was released, the Catapult flung the barge at incredible speeds out into the deep of space.

The rings slowed down and the electric storm whimpered out. The next ship in line started to approach the Catapult, which reoriented itself slightly in order to align itself to a different destination.

Curious about the Catapults, Harry looked it up. According to the solarnet article on the devices, the Gravitic Catapults were originally designed as superweapons during the last Earth-Martian War. The Catapults were an Earth invention. They secretly designed and built a prototype at an outpost at the inner asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. The idea was to invent a massive catapult based upon the then-recent Gravitic theory in order to fling asteroids against the surface of Mars. The speeds at which the catapult would launch its projectiles would be so fast that not a single countermeasure in existence was able to shoot down such a projectile before it hit its target.

Sadly for the Terrans, the superweapon did not quite function according to theory. In order to shortcut the power and material required to create a feasible catapult, they relied on certain rare and exotic extrasolar materials such as Versetite and Samsarite in the design. These poorly-understood materials had an unpredictable effect on the functioning of the catapult.

Instead of flinging an asteroid up to 50% the speed of light at a target, it only reached half that velocity, and immediately slowed down to rest speed relative to the nearest significant gravitational object, lessening much of its destructive potential. In addition to having a significant restrictions on how close the Catapult could launch objects near another gravitational object, the device was utterly useless to transmit missiles, nukes or other assorted ordnance to the doorstep of the enemy.

It still remained a very fine instrument that could be used to rapidly deploy a large amount of warships and troop transports. Only the catapult's remote location in the asteroid belt prevented Earth from fully exploiting this fact before Mars sent out a task force to capture the outpost and take control of the catapult. They stole all of the research data, scanned the device extensively, then disassembled it to retrieve the valuable extrasolar materials.

The war then became a race on which side completed the construction of their catapult first. The story turned a bit boring after this point, and Harry soon lost interest in the article.

"We have about thirty minutes left before departure, captain. May I suggest you visit Professor Zhang in the aft torpedo bay to prepare the 'package'? We need it ready to be launched as soon as we arrive at our exit point near Earth."

"Very well." Harry pressed a button on his seat that retracted the protective strappings that kept him in his seat. Now free, he slipped to his feet and exited the bridge, trusting Claris to take care of the rest. He took the elevator down to the middle decks and took a hoverpad towards the aft of the ship. _'I'm not going to bloody walk three hundred meters to reach the other side of the ship.'_

His pad delivered him to the entrance of the fortified torpedo bay. He stepped off and put in his authorization in order to open the hatch. As soon as he passed through, the hatch closed off again, sealing the bay from the inside in order to contain any potential catastrophic explosions. In the worst case, the captain could even command the ship to eject the torpedo bay completely, but Harry figured it would never come to that. The wizard homed in on Professor Zhang and the torpedo chief as they made their final checks on the object.

"Ah, Harry. Come."

He approached the partially disassembled torpedo. The projectile was as large as a metro train and as long as a bus. Zhang was currently pouring over the object he would soon be placing in the unscrewed warhead.

"I hope it meets your satisfaction."

The object consisted of a black metal sphere made out of a complex custom-made alloy. Zhang had designed it to be as discrete as possible while still be strong enough to endure massive amounts of heat and friction. Of course, the sphere wouldn't go onto re-entry naked. A convincing facsimile of an asteroid rock lay next to it, ready to encase the metal sphere and camouflage its payload in order to avoid attracting the attention of Earth's defense network. The torpedo would only be used to build up the initial speed required to make a hasty passage to the planet – without it, and it might take months for the pseudo asteroid to reach the atmosphere.

Seeing that everything was in order, Harry retrieved his wand and let the tip rest on the surface of the inky black sphere. He could almost feel the chill from the lifeless metal. Taking a deep breath, he drew a substantial portion of his remaining reservoir of magic to create his portkey. First he enchanted the metal sphere as the destination. Then, as pain wracked his body, he quickly enchanted an ordinary bolt that rested on the tool table as the trigger.

"Captain!"

Zhang went over the fallen form of his captain and checked his pulse. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Though the pain still wracked his limbs, he could not afford to stay incapacitated for long. "I'm alright, just get me back to my quarters. I need to rest. And don't touch that bolt under _any_ circumstances."

"Yes sir, don't you worry. I'll encase it in a Gravitic containment box." He then turned to a nearby marine guard. "Please call in a stretcher and carry him back to his quarters."

The marine complied. Zhang made sure the guards carried Harry safely before turning back to his work. As one technician carefully floated the enchanted bolt into a containment box, Zhang carefully used another machine to lift the heavy sphere and encased it with the pseudo-asteroid exterior. After the sphere was completely encased, he carefully placed it within the torpedo.

"Please load the torpedo and standby for further orders."

"Yes sir."

It was out of Professor Zhang's hands now. It would now be up to the others to bring the ship to the vicinity of Earth and launch the torpedo towards their ancestral planet. He watched with more than a little concern as the torpedomen loaded the special payload in the aft torpedo tube.

'_I sure hope Harry makes it out alive.. I still need him to take revenge on my colleagues and unlock the secrets of his power.'_

The ship would also collapse if something were to happen to the wizard. He was still the glue that kept everyone together – particularly the new recruits. No matter how competent Claris was, she was not the captain. It would be hard for her to keep control over the rowdy crew after they find out they aren't bound by Harry's threats anymore. For better or worse, everyone depended on the wizard to make it out alive.

* * *

Claris received word that Harry was.. indisposed. A frown appeared on her face. _'He's going to miss the show.'_

"The last ship has passed through the Catapult. Io Traffic Control is signaling us – we're next."

"Thank you. Navigator, please plot out their instructions."

"Aye aye, commander."

The _Immortal Marauder_ gently boosted towards the immense Gravitic Catapult. The device itself engaged its own thrusters in order to reorient itself to a direction that it had never targeted before: Earth. As they drew closer, Claris marveled at the huge design. Even in her pirate days did she never went through Trindebal's Catapult. The expense was simply too enormous for any run-of-the-mill pirate. Only the great crime corporations made use out of that Catapult, since it took about two-hundred million credits worth of Rantarite to power a single jump.

"Course locked. Our systems are synced with the Gravitic Catapult. Estimated launch in two minutes."

"Begin lockdown."

While nothing in human record had ever mentioned a malfunction during transition, Claris was not about to risk her luck, especially on a maiden voyage. Crewmen throughout the ship had already locked down every loose object beforehand, so they simply needed to head to the nearest cocoon and ready themselves to be enveloped by their seats' hardened shell.

The projection in front of Claris showed that everyone bar the house-elves and the lone prisoner in the brig were secure. She forgot to include protection for the elves when she gave the order for the ship, and as for the prisoner Claris actually hoped the blond witch would get herself crushed.

'_I can't have another whore sinking her claws on Harry.'_ Though she didn't quite know whether she wanted Harry for herself or merely wanted to protect him. _'Damnit, this is no time to get confused. I have to focus on the job.'_

"Thirty seconds to launch."

"All non-essential personnel, please cocoon now."

Several seats began to morph a hard cover over their occupants while forming absorbing foam on the inside. Other seats throughout the cruiser did the same, leaving only the absolutely necessary personnel free to manipulate the ship, such as the helmsman and the engineer. Claris herself also opted to have her seat stay uncovered. She wanted to see this spectacle for herself.

"Ten, nine, eight…"

The Gravitic Catapult towered over them. Its majestic jaws beckoned to the _Immortal Marauder_.

"Five, four, three…"

Electric arcs expelled from the frame and washed over the surface of the cruiser.

"Gravitic acceleration commencing now!"

The world turned insubstantial as the ill-understood energies of the giant machine propelled the _Marauder_ from a relatively mundane rest speed to a quarter of the speed of light in the blink of an eye. The world around the people in the ship stretched and faded out into nothingness for just a little moment before dumping them into the transient phase that was simply called 'the transition'.

This was the first time Claris experienced the transition. Others who traveled through the Catapult themselves had described it as being not quite having both feet in the material realm. As she held out her hand and touched armrest, she could feel a measure of.. something. Not quite an armrest, but not quite nothing either. All the other crewmen who retracted from their cocoons once it became clear the launch was successful all marveled at their new state of semi-corporeality.

'_Is this what Arnaud experiences every day of his unlife?'_

The dream-like sensation eventually passed, and everyone's perception of time, space and matter turned roughly normal. Only a small bit of discomfort remained from that first minute of transition. Theorists speculated that nothing actually changed – the human mind simply adapted to the new reality as best it could.

The transition was the most significant side effect from Old Earth's superweapon project. One of the principle reasons why the Catapult failed to function as a viable weapon was that every object the Catapult propelled entered into a 'higher' phase of reality, to put it crudely, and was be able to interact with objects located within the regular dimensions. The gravitic physics involved behind all the theory was mind boggling to all but the most talented gravitic physicists, so Claris did not even attempt to understand the principles behind it. All that mattered were the results. Without the Catapult's phasic effect, a single speck of dust could bore right through the ship's reactor and cause a critical overload that might blow up the entire ship. _'Thank Mercury for small mercies.'_

The spread of Gravitic Catapults led to a new age in human civilization. No longer did it take months or years to trade and travel between different colonies or planets. If you had enough credits, you could be on the other side of the solar system in a matter of days.

In the case of the _Immortal Marauder_, the current orbital positions of Earth and Jupiter meant that the journey took a bit longer than average: about three hours. Claris could already feel she would not enjoy this period of transition.

So with a clouded mind, she issued her orders, making certain the ship was not falling apart for some reason. She needed to be constantly vigilant for any defect that might pop up during this critical moment. That meant that everyone had to keep their concentration for three, long hours.

'_This better be worth it, Harry.'_

* * *

The transition actually brought a sense of peace to the stricken wizard. Oh, he'd heard plenty of stories from the crew, and had prepared himself for the worst. When it actually came.. it was nothing as he expected it. He felt as if his entire consciousness lifted from his body, as if he was watching the world from a pensieve. The curses that ate his magic and ravaged his soul were still there, to be sure, they just didn't gnaw at him so painfully. He managed to recover much sooner than he anticipated.

A clock ran down the time before launch. Three hours. And that was just to exit into 'normal space' and launch the special torpedo. It would take an estimated three days before the torpedo even reached Earth's atmosphere. That actually left him plenty of time to prepare.

So he started with his gear. He was mixed on whether he would take his trusted battle robes or the outfit Claris had procured for him that would make him blend in better among the local Terrans. Unlike their space-faring cousins, the people on Earth never needed to wear vacuum sealed suits to maintain integrity if a space station or space ship suddenly experienced decompression. The climate regulated planet always held the exact right mix of gasses to support human life. This allowed Earth to develop fashion divergent from the colonial norm.

Harry actually understood little of his lessons on current male fashion, but he opted to go for the most normal-looking outfit. He retrieved it from the closet and checked it carefully. On the outside, it looked like a blocky, plastic business suit. The plastic feel of the material belied its extremely complex nanomachinery. The suit could be as soft as silk at one moment, but as hard as steel in the next. The intelligent suit tuned itself on Harry's biometric functions and emphasize certain corners or sections of the suits into edges depending on the wearer's mood. It was all very complex and nonsensical to Harry, but at least he wouldn't have to wear anything uglier.

'_And Merlin did my home planet come up with some wacky stuff. Wearable bacteria, gravitic chainmail, human tissue filament.'_

He then moved onto the equipment he would take along. The Deathly Hallows naturally accompanied him, along with his enchanted revolver. He picked up a self-floating backpack along that was packed with credits, a self-unfolding tent, a comfortable bedroll, some camping supplies and a mishmash of other items he saw fit to include. He hoped he carried enough for him to be able to survive in any environment, whether it be the urban sprawls of Earth's corporate megacities or one of its extensive reclaimed wilderness.

When he finally got bored with tinkering, he left his quarters and toured each section of the ship. Nothing much was happening, so he didn't encounter anything exciting. He thought about visiting the officer's mess to grab a quick meal, but evidently eating while in transition wasn't very popular for some reason. Even the cook was out. So with nothing else to do, Harry strolled to the bridge and took his seat.

"We have about fifteen minutes left until we leave transition."

He waited. And waited. And waited patiently until their trip would be up.

"Transition is fading! Entering the material dimensions in five, four, three, two, one, now!"

There was no change. No crash. No bump. Simply nothing. One moment they were travelling at unimaginable speeds, only to suddenly drop out in a modest relative velocity to Earth, not that far from Langrange Point 1.

"Check systems!"

"Sensors, clear!"

"Environmentals, clear."

"Armor integrity, green."

"Engineering, clear."

"Navigator, check if our ship is following the pre-programmed plot."

"We're following the plot. Only trivial course corrections are necessary."

"Duly noted. Helmsman, engage the engines. Cruise acceleration."

"Aye aye, ma'm. Setting the ship to a cruise."

"Blake," Claris finally turned to the most important step in their plan. "Is the special torpedo ready?"

"Aye aye, ma'm. No problems to report. The aft torpedo launcher is fully functional."

"Then, on my mark, launch the torpedo." Claris quickly checked all of the systems for anything she might have missed. Everything showed up green. _'Those Reyder & Whitlock guys sure knew their business.'_ With a contented smile she gave the final command. "Mark."

"Launching torpedo now!"

A small shudder ran through the _Immortal Marauder_ as the high-powered torpedo launcher expelled the special accelerant torpedo with a force that could crush a battle tank. The torpedo left the stern of the ship with prodigious momentum. Then its fuel charges burned, its concentric fuel blocks burning one by one, giving the projectile a staccato burst of acceleration every few seconds. The speed at which the torpedo closed in on Earth grew rapidly until its final fuel block spent itself. Having reached the end of its acceleration cycle, the warhead opened itself and propelled the pseudo-asteroid from its nose before self-destructing.

The technicians aboard the _Immortal Marauder_ followed their torpedo's progress neatly, from the initial launch, to the accelerating burn, to its final stage. They all fed the data to the captain's seats, although only Claris was able to interpret the information correctly.

"The torpedo succeeded in bringing the payload on a path to Earth. It will take three days for it to reach the surface. There's nothing more we can do now but wait."

Harry nodded, expecting that particular answer. As much as he hated waiting, he preferred being bored if it meant staying out of danger. "Are there any enemy vessels nearby?"

"Hmmm.." Claris turned to her console, calling up a local sensor reading. "Our sensors are still in the process of resolving and interpreting the data, but so far there seems to be no threats at all bar a few asteroids which float around the Langrange point."

"Might they hide a ship, or at least a sensor?"

"Quite possibly. There are far too many rocks out here for Earth to tag them all, but I'm sure we've already been observed. The chances of encountering another vessel is small though considering the vastness of this territory."

"Very well. I suppose I can retire for now."

"You do that, sir. I'll call you up if there is anything urgent."

* * *

Since they had lots of free time, Harry decided to indulge himself. He sauntered over to the lower decks where the brig was located and entered the tightly secured compartment.

"Sir!" A pair of female marines saluted. One of them was decked in full boarding armor and assault rifle, and stood guard over the entrance. The other marine kept her more comfortable uniform and was operating the control center. He recognized her from the other day when she led the security team that cleaned up the hotel room. The firm redhead had an obvious military bearing that looked very much out of place in a wild and undisciplined pirate ship. Cleveland told him that the marines were always a bit uptight on duty – it came with their training.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Sergeant Castia, _sir_!"

"I'm, you don't need to be so wind up around me, you know."

The woman relaxed a tiny bit, letting her legs spread out. She still appeared awfully attentive though, but Harry guessed she would never get rid of that. "Oh well. How has the prisoner been?"

"The prisoner has been docile so far. We have not engaged the restraints in any way."

"Has she talked or anything so far?"

"Not that we know of."

"Alright." Harry nodded, satisfied that nothing had happened so far. "I'll be entering the cell to have a little 'fun' with the prisoner. What I'm going to do next is going to disgust you probably, but you _have_ to keep monitoring. I'll be relying on you to restrain the prisoner and pull me back if it appears she has me in her thrall. Do. You. Understand?"

If the implication of his words had rankled her, Castia didn't show it. She kept her perfectly composed expression closed and saluted in her practiced way. "Understood, sir."

Nodding, Harry left the control center and walked over the cell that contained his sole prisoner. A short beep sounded before the locks of the cell door disengaged. He entered quietly, and met Star's defiant eyes. She wore typical prisoner's garments, and gravitic cuffs were still attached to her arms and legs. In addition, she wore tight shock collar around her supple neck. All in all, she looked incredibly sexy despite her lack of makeup and mundane outfit.

"Star. I hope you've been enjoying your new accommodation."

The blond vixen refrained from responding, only choosing to glare at him with contemptuous eyes. She sat dejectedly on her cot, which was a plain and uncomfortable bed. The cell also contained a toilet and a sink, which she could use to drink from as well.

"You'll come around soon enough." Harry retrieved a small remote from his pocket and manipulated the settings. The gravitic cuffs attached to Star soon glowed in an active state, and force her limbs apart, letting her lie on the bed. "You see, you can forget about your old life new. Your new job is to serve as my little Veela pet."

Seating himself along the edge of the bunk, he took a moment to admire the view. Star was deliciously ready to be ravished. He leaned over her face and brushed away her hair. "Do you even know what a Veela is? That magic exists?"

He absently fondled her lovely skin as he waited for an answer. Star remained rebellious however. "It doesn't matter. I have lots of time to enjoy your pristine body. I'm not in a hurry to interrogate you yet."

Then, he tore at her clothes, stripping her naked. The wizard leaned back to enjoy the view. "You're so beautiful, Star. Your body is positively _built_ for sex."

He went to grab her beautifully shaped flesh, enjoying the feel of those fleshy globes in his hands. Harry absently compared them to his missing lover. _'Selner's melons were bigger, but Star's rack is much firmer and finely shaped.'_ He sucked on the hardened nubs, enjoying the feel of Star's flawless skin touch his lips.

"I'd love to see them pierced. I'd have a chain in between and tug you along on all fours." Harry grinned, already imagining the sight. "I can already predict you're going to be an awesome pet."

Having sated himself with her delectable rack, he slowly kissed down her body, over her toned stomach, and ended at her spread flower. Selner had him practice eating her out, and Harry hoped he'd be able to elicit a reaction from his uncooperative prisoner. He flicked his tongue against her and he could already see that her eyes were wavering.

"In all those long-dead novels, captains often brought along a pet. Whether it was a parrot or a cat, they always had an animal companion to comfort them in their free time. And you know what? You're going to do the same to me."

The boy then bit and tugged at her harshly, causing Star to finally howl in pain and ecstasy. "That's more like it! Scream for your new master."

He spent an hour relieving his stress on the defenseless girl. He went easy on her and spent himself on the proper hole, which was paradise in itself. The girl had tried to use her Veela allure on him a few times, but he was prepared for the effect and shrugged the sensation off without another thought.

"Hahaha! It doesn't matter how many times you use that trick on me. It only makes me want to worship you more."

When he was finally ready to climax, he pulled out and jerked his body away from the tired woman. He groaned and erupted. He had not relieved himself in weeks, causing him to expel a copious amount of energy, staining the white tiles of the cell floor.

After cleaning his softening flesh with the remnants of Star's clothes, he zipped up his pants. "Your first order as my new pet is to lick up the mess with your lovely tongue. Make sure to eat it all." He then deliberately turned his head towards the security camera. "Sergeant, keep an eye on her and make certain that she performs her task. Withhold her meals until she does."

Shifting his attention back at his pet, he smiled at her lifeless eyes. "As my new pet you're going to have to learn to enjoy some cream, because you can count on it that I'll be using your body a lot. If you're a good girl and do as I tell, you can get out of this cell and maybe wear some clothing. But if you're not.. perhaps I'll withhold your meals and have my entire crew have their way with you. The only food you'll be munching on will come from their bodies."

With those final words, he left her cell. Harry had no doubt that Star would break in time. He had plenty of experience raping and torturing dark witches in his earlier lifetime. In those days, he needed to be rather extreme in order to get vital information quickly. Now though, assuming he'd regain his magic, he would have all the time in the world to break his pet's will.

'_Ah, if only I still had Selner. We'd have lots of fun using Star together.' _Harry smirked as he went to his quarters for a shower. He had three days left to prepare for his insertion to Earth. He'd better make it count.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	35. I: The Lost World - Repost

March 28, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Lost World_

* * *

Three days had gone by in an anxious daze. The old crew knew how important the wait was and stayed out of Harry's way. The newer recruits shook their heads about the display, since they did not understand much about Harry's magic, but that was fine. He'd show them all what power he held when he returned from Earth.

In the meantime, he spent his time pouring over the solarnet articles about Earth. From the sound of it, his home planet turned into some kind of paradise of corporate democracy. There were no nations anymore – instead, every person could choose to align himself with a particular corporate group by buying their products. The corporation that managed to capture the highest proportion of that person's disposable income was granted that person's 'vote'. How exactly the two separate functions of business and government were related Harry had no idea, but it was a slow centuries-long development since the start of the twenty-first century.

While there were millions of corporations who wielded some measure of sovereign power, there were only a handful of big ones that ruled significant landmasses. The main isle of Britain itself was in the possession of Percival Integrated, which held a wide array of businesses in the services sector but specialized in premium holobroadcast entertainment. More pertinent was Gravicorp, the first commercial exploiter of gravitic technology, which controlled large swathes of the Himalayas as their testing grounds.

One particular feature of Earth was that it looked radically different from the last time he had been there. The planet suffered many centuries of war, storms, earthquakes and floods until technology advanced enough to regulate the planet's climate completely. With this new technology, corporations were free to rearrange their territories, bringing much order to the chaos of nature. Sometimes entire metropolises were wiped out in order to make way for megafarms. The surface of the planet could therefore be utilized much more efficiently in order to provide wealth and comfort for over twelve billion inhabitants. An additional eight billion under Earth's dominion lived in one of its many space stations or its sole lunar colony. Earth's huge population made it the solar system's demographic powerhouse.

Harry read so many articles that his head almost burst. The only reason why he hadn't gone crazy was because he had Star to let off steam. Tormenting the stubborn agent was a lot of fun. After a full day of resistance, Star finally succumbed to her hunger. Harry loved to play the security footage. The naked woman had lowered herself to the floor and licked the dried-off remains of his bliss. The mere sight of it was intoxicating.

He was no expert in breaking women, but he figured he had enough hands-on experience to know how to go about it. The boy wanted Star to be his compliant pet. While it would be fun to rape her with her will intact, it would be rather bothersome to ravage her with her restraints on. Therefore he made a plan to slowly break her will and question her loyalties. In time, he hoped, she would enjoy being his pet.

Thus, under the watchful gazes of his marine guards, he had his way with her. After the satisfying romp, he had a plain metal bowl brought in and dumped his cream there.

"I want to see you on all fours like the pet you are and eat it like it's the best treat you've ever had."

Star knew she should have just ignored the petulant boy and his crude little tricks. Yet despite all the anti-torture conditioning she received, she was at the mercy of a captor who completely did not have any restraint. She had fought against playing along for twenty-four long hours before succumbing to her self-preservation. This time, she didn't bother waiting for another day, and went down on her knees and crawled over the bowl. With a disgusted face, she lowered herself to eat the fresh white substance.

Only to receive a brutal shock from her collar.

"I told you to make it look like you enjoy it." He admonished her, as if she was a little girl and not an agent of a powerful group of benefactors. "Just for that you'll miss your dinner."

He retreated from her and left the cell. Star tried hard to keep her roiling emotions in check. A few tears sprung from her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. No matter what, she wouldn't show weakness against her tormentor. She had to keep hope and pray she would be rescued in time.

'_You'll die, Harry. Even if I have to twist the knife, you'll definitely perish.'_

* * *

A timer ran down at the bridge. No one really paid it much attention until the last day. The day Harry would activate the portkey and hopefully teleport to Earth. The bridge was packed as everyone sat at their stations. In addition, a few other officers were present, from Chief Cleveland, to Professor Zhang, to Lieutenant Menzies. This would be the last time in possibly a long while that Harry saw them, so he wanted to say his last goodbyes.

"I don't have enough magic in me to create a portkey that will bring me back to the ship. But don't worry about me. I'll catch up with you if I'm able to regain my magic."

"What if you don't?"

"Then you can do whatever you want with the ship, Claris. I know that Amande has the title for all my assets, but I don't really care in any way who ends up with what. Make a life out there if you can."

"Thank you, Harry." Claris smiled sincerely. Even though she didn't have much hope of retaining control, his public support would go a long way into increasing her chances. "We will miss you, captain."

"Don't forget that I need your help to get back at my betrayers." Zhang added.

"I haven't." He turned away and face the dwindling timer. "Anyway, it's almost time. Everyone knows what to do in my absence. Keep my ship safe and let me have something to return to when I regain my power."

The numbers trickled past. On the other screen, a simulation displayed the portkey's predicted journey. The fake asteroid exterior had spent many minutes burning through Earth's atmosphere, glowing molten hot and melting its rocky exterior. Eventually, timed releases would blow apart the shell, simulating a complete burnout to Earth's watchful sensors while losing their eyes of the metal sphere. Everyone followed the simulated trajectory as it landed closer and closer to the surface until it eventually impacted in Britain. Hopefully the real sphere would end up there as well, though the winds and other variables threw up the calculations slightly, so there was a good chance the sphere ended up off-mark.

He'd deal with it very soon.

Checking his Earth suit and his survival pack one more time, he breathed deeply and approached the portkey trigger. The simple, mundane looking bolt he had enchanted days ago awaited his touch. Harry looked back at his companions for one last time.

'_It's been fun, running with these fellows. Claris, Zhang, Cleveland, Selner.. I'll miss you all.'_

"Farewell, and hopefully I'll return someday."

His fingers brushed the bolt.

* * *

Hain looked up at his screen as the computers detected an anomaly. "A new asteroid? And we haven't tracked it yet?"

That was unusual to say the least. The Asteroid Guard (A subsidiary of Henkel Defense) possessed many powerful telescopes and other devices that usually caught everything larger than a fist many light-minutes away. The size of the rock nearing Earth was well above that size, yet nothing tracked the absent rock until it reached the doorstep of the planet. _'Strange. Perhaps I should check it out.'_

The employee took control of some of the Asteroid Guard's many instruments and analyzed the asteroid's composition in perfect detail. The results revealed that the rock was a common type that contained ordinary minerals such as iron and lead. From its size and shape, the rock had a decent chance to survive entry into the atmosphere. While it was small and fragile, enough metallic residue in the core might survive to land on the surface of the planet. Hain quickly extrapolated the asteroid's trajectory and found that it would likely end up somewhere in Weup, probably in the vicinity of Bittaan. There were many population centers located there, so the asteroid might conceivably end up hurting someone.

The Asteroid Guard's mandate was to identify, catalog and destroy any harmful celestial object that passed near Terra, Luna or one of its many space colonies. This was definitely one of the more harmful kind of asteroids.

Yet, his superiors demanded a cost-benefit approach before he was allowed to act any further. Was the expense of contacting the corporation that operated the defense platforms worth the destruction of an asteroid that might or might not survive atmospheric entry?

'_Ah, there will probably be so little left of the rock that all that will land is a tiny pebble. I'm not going to screw with my performance indicators when I'm so close to my next bonus.'_

And so Hain reluctantly let the asteroid go, hoping his decision would not come to bite him back in the ass.

* * *

As Harry felt the swift tug of the portkey end, he suddenly encountered an uncomfortable fact about his new environment: he had ended up deep underwater!

He immediately thrashed at the sensation of water crushing his body. During his struggles, he mistakenly let out the remnants of his breath, losing precious amounts of oxygen. Only his hyper-advanced suit saved him from drowning. The nanomachines that made up the suit recognized the change in environment immediately and reconfigured itself to accommodate the wearer. The black suit morphed into several nonsensical spiky shapes before enveloping Harry's body into an angular enclosed diving suit.

The closure allowed the nanomachines to drain the water inside and replace it with pure oxygen, bringing massive amounts of relief for the half-drowned wizard. When he had caught a good amount of breaths, he opened his weary eyes and saw that his suits provided an image of his surroundings. It was dark around him. He was floating close to the bottom of the sea. He knew it was a sea since the water tasted salty. Looking up, he spotted a light that must have been the surface.

Knowing that he couldn't stay at the bottom forever, he started to swim upwards. The weight on his back made it harder to climb up quickly, but by sheer force of will he managed to climb until he broke through to the surface. Detecting that he wasn't underwater anymore, the suit retracted from his face, allowing Harry to experience his first breath on the planet he had grown up in. The air was refreshing.

'_There's none of the clean, sterile quality of shipboard or station air. This is pure, natural Earthern air.'_

Despite being completely soaked to the bone, Harry felt the urge to smile. He looked at the graying clouds and the drops of rain that pattered against his face and could feel nothing but intense satisfaction.

"I've.. I've actually made it. I almost can't believe it. It worked!"

He couldn't help but let out a victorious cry despite the desolate location he ended up in. When his excitement finally passed, he looked around for land. He spotted a shore not too far away, though it took him a good half hour of strokes to get through the murky water. His nanosuit worked hard to keep him warm. _'Claris never mentioned me how much power these suits have. I hope they can last long enough.'_

As he worked through the rolling waves, he started to think on where he ended up in. His specialists had only been able to calculate an approximate trajectory, but thinking back on the impact circle on the map, the landmass up ahead should be Britain. The murky weather also seemed to support his estimate.

The exhausted boy eventually reached the beach, and dragged himself inwards towards some nearby cliffs. The temporary shelter its mass afforded allowed Harry to catch his breath and get his bearings. His long-dormant survival skills after a century of being on the run came back at full force.

'_I.. I need to find shelter first. Then I can to orient myself.'_ A pain shot through his ribs. _'Damnit, that swim took out more than it should have out of me. My magical exhaustion is beginning to show its effects. I don't have many days left.'_

Even though his muscles were screaming, he dragged his body up and limped out of the beach and up a path that reached the top of the hill.

The sight that greeted him took away his breath.

The entire rolling landscape was dotted with the so-called megafarms, multi-tiered structures as long as apartment complexes that absorbed and distributed sunlight in an ultra-efficient manner. The farms surrounded his vision completely, revealing the extent of corporate power. In a typical British landscape, the hills would feature towns, roads, forests and gentle pastures. Some corporation in the past must have bulldozed it all to make way for a more efficient allocation of space.

Wary of approaching the glasshouse monstrosities, Harry instead tried to find an alcove or a cave for some necessary cover, but only spotted some sick looking trees. Shrugging, he went to the little cove and set down his backpack. It took him a solid minute to retrieve the camping tent. Having practiced the procedure a few times, he set it down on a straight patch of dirt and pressed the appropriate button for a water-sealed interior. The device instantly inflated into a modest-sized and weighted tent.

Only when he crawled inside did he finally relax. He was out of the water, away from the rain, and with no immediate danger in sight. He flopped on his back and rested for a few minutes. After he refreshed himself he went to his pack to pick up his modified datapad. Claris had paid a hacker quite a few credits to upgrade the pad to allow it to sync into Earth's many networks. It didn't work perfectly, but it allowed Harry to access many essential services. The first one he tried was to find out his location.

"Fucking Merlin."

Harry cursed a bit once he found out he landed well to the south and west of his intended destination. He was over two hundred kilometers away from Stonehenge, the nearest magical cache that he knew would definitely survive to this day.

When he had prepared for this journey, the wizard was dismayed to see so many iconic landscapes destroyed out of the corporate drive for efficiency. He half expected a monument like Stonehedge would make way for something as banal as a theme park, but had been pleasantly surprised the site was still intact. Even though the muggles had restored all the rocks, they wouldn't have been able to find the hidden entrance buried hundreds of meters below the surface.

He turned his attention towards a different service: public transportation. Harry almost let out a groan when he found out the nearest bus stop was at a town on the other side of the sea of megafarms. A bit resigned, he closed the pad and put it back into his pack. He then leaned back and waited for the rain to end.

* * *

Later, when the rain met its scheduled end, Harry crawled out of his tent and refolded it into its compact state. Packing everything up, he trekked down the muddied slope. All this camping and walking around made him feel like he was hunting horcruxes again. The only difference was that instead of surrounded by trees, he was now surrounded by artificial life. The mega glasshouses contained many unfamiliar strains of plants – probably genetically engineered from scratch. Natural crops evidently didn't yield enough to be efficient enough and were eradicated a long time ago. It was the only way to feed twenty billion mouths.

Night fell by the time he reached the town. To say it was a town would be an understatement. He felt as if he landed in a Lego village. The very layout of the town had been completely planned out in advance. Pale, lifeless metallic cubes and rectangles rose out from the Earth in a very ordered pattern that would have made a mathematician cream in his pants. There was no color, no personality. While the commercial buildings had handy billboards that displayed their name and function, even that didn't seem to bring enough life into the town.

Not a lot of people were on the streets. Only those who came back from a pub, restaurant or club were lounging about, smoking some kind of stimulant or just hanging about talking about the latest sports. It all seemed so terribly familiar, yet it was not, for each and every person wore a corporate uniform – most of them belonging to Cytosis Agritech (a joint venture between Percival Defense and the West Bittaan Development Company). Perhaps it had to do with the low-income status of the small town, but Harry found Earth to be much more depressing than he thought.

"Hey lookie here! This guy's uniform is bare!"

Before the tired wizard knew it, he was surrounded by four blue-collar workers, all wearing a yellow, dirt-stained uniform of Cytosis Agritech. They had swooped from a nearby alleyway and cut him off from all directions.

'_Damnit, I forgot!'_ Harry groaned as he looked down his chest to see it was bare. He was supposed to link in with the company with the largest local presence in order to fit in.

The burly man in front of him pushed at Harry. "You think it's funny, walking on our streets, enjoying our fine hospitality when you don't even bother to buy anything?"

"Yeah!" A guy on the left continued. "You think you can get away with freeloading off our corporation's sweat and tears?"

"You filthy boycotter."

"Boycotter."

"Boy-cotter!"

The men pushed him around while calling him a boycotter for evidently refusing to participate in the corporate democracy system.

Harry knew he shouldn't attract attention. At this early stage, he didn't have access to any of his magical resources. But these men obviously wouldn't let go of Harry without a fight. Already the rear fellow tried to yank his pack off of his back. He had to free himself from this perilous situation and he only had one means to accomplish it without drawing on his depleting magic.

He pulled out his revolver.

"Whoa whoa!" The guy in front of him uttered as he backed off. Unfortunately, his pals thought they could outflank Harry and made a move for his gun arm. With instincts born out of hundreds of battles, Harry rolled forward, tackling the front guy and making him trip. As the boy finished his roll he pointed back and shot his gun in four rapid successions. All of the thugs slumped down as the stunners hit their marks.

A nearby pub roused to the noise Harry made, so he knew he shouldn't stick very long. He only stayed long enough to take their blood samples for Lord Wellesley. He then programmed his suit to adopt the Cytosis Agritech logo before running into the darkness.

Suddenly, the corner of every building in the town lit up in blue and red as a siren flared. _'Damnit, do I have the police after me already?!'_ Harry quickened his pace, determined to reach the bus stop before someone catches him. Unfortunately, armored enforcers wearing the Percival Defense logo cut him off before he made it to the next bend. _'How did they reach me so quickly? Oh right, big brother is watching me.'_

"HALT, UNAFFILIATED PERSON!" Invisible speakers bleared from every direction. "CEASE YOUR FLIGHT AND SUBMIT TO THE SOVEREIGN AUTHORITY OF THE LANDMASS OF BRITTAAN."

Harry twitched horribly as he saw more enforcers reach his location by hovercar or hoverbike. Seeing his situation grow worse every second, he acted.

His thumb rolled the bullet chamber to a different setting as he pulled his side arm up. The enforcers were about to shoot him with their stun rifles but had to veer as an ugly stream of dark reddish flame spat out at them. Harry continued to spread the Fiendfyre all around him, incinerating several troopers while wrecking many of their hovervehicles. He left out only one avenue of escape while the rest of the enforcers panicked.

Harry reached a hoverbike and attempted to take off, only to receive a disapproving tone by the uncooperative machine. "Damn!" He slammed his fist against the bike. He tried to look up and down the street for a different form of transportation and spotted a family car about to take off. "Oh no you don't!"

He quickly set his overtaxed revolved back to a reductor and took one well-aimed blast that tore a side door apart. The stricken occupants – a pair of clubbers – immediately jumped out of the vehicle without bothering to lock it down. The wizard quickly closed the distance and entered the abandoned vehicle.

The hovercar had many unfamiliar settings in the dashboard, but the airplane like throttle and foot pedals appeared familiar enough. He made some experimental gestured and found it worked as expected. He stepped his feet on the pedal and quickly hovered away from the rapidly expanding flames. Already firefighters started to arrive in an attempt to smother the flames with all kinds of advanced chemical solutions – to no avail. The flames quickly spread to nightclubs, pubs and even apartments. Many of their occupants would not escape in time and become engulfed by the magical heat.

The fleeing wizard didn't care. All he wanted was a distraction big enough to allow him to escape. He fiddled with the settings of his hovercar and eventually managed to setup a crude GPS tracker that allowed him to trace his journey to Stonehenge. _'At least the idiot-proof design of this car makes it easy for me to learn its functions.'_

Harry settled back in his seat and tried his best to enjoy the drive despite the ripping winds howling from the torn-off sides. The car whizzed through the cold British air with incredible speeds. _'Cars in the future sure are sweet.'_

Somehow though, he expected that his luck would run out. More than midway through his journey a patrol of hoverbikes caught up to him with their bleating sirens. "PERCIVAL DEFENSE COMMANDS YOU TO STOP!" They would blear out. Harry tried to shake them by ascending up in the air and pulling out his best Quiddich moves. The enforcers were unimpressed by his tricks and started firing the electric cannons mounted at the front of their bikes.

"Damnit!" The target swore and kicked open the windshield to take a shot at them with his revolver. Unfortunately, firing a gun from a moving hovercar in full flight was much harder than he thought, and his reductors only met open air.

A large whooshing sound suddenly reverberated from below. Harry turned to his dash board to see one blood-chilling detail: a missile had locked on to him. Instantly his mind went to overdrive. As the other hoverbikes fled his presence, he dove his car down towards the ground and squeezed through the megafarms dotting the landscape. The missile was much smarter than it looked and neatly avoided smashing against any of the glass structures. Swearing again, Harry flew right up to a wall, then sharply pulled up before he smashed his car against it. The missile that had almost closed in on him just couldn't turn up in time and exploded against the megafarm, rupturing its entire structure.

'_This won't be the end of it. They're still able to track me.'_

Stonehenge was only a few more minutes away from here. If he could just survive long enough to reach the ruins, he might have a chance at making it out alive.

Predictably, another missile shot out. Harry made a gamble then and continued to boost forward, knowing the missile would catch up to him eventually but not before he reached the heritage site. The dingy commercial hovercar strained to fly as fast as Harry was pushing it, especially since its aerodynamic frame had been shot to ruins already. The missile finally came close to him when he was still several kilometers away from Stonehenge. The megafarm expanse had now made way for an idyllic pseudo-natural forest landscape.

He took another chance. He slowed his car and steered it towards the top of the trees, he jumped out just before it would crash. His body flung into the air before he crashed against another tree. Only his wards and his advanced suit saved him from crushing all of his bones. With a painful roll he bumped his way down the branches and reached the forest floor.

His body aching, his muscles bruising, Harry almost didn't have enough energy to go on. Yet he knew he had to keep moving. Percival Defense was no doubt tracking him at this very moment even if he destroyed the hovercar. Perhaps they had sensors in the forest, or perhaps they followed his heat signature up in the sky. Whatever tricks they had, Harry doubted he'd be able to fool them for long. So with an agonizing stride he strode forwards.

He worked his way through the remaining distance. The dense forest offered him some concealment and forced the enforcers to go on foot, but they were still able to track Harry from his heat signature. Not caring for the destruction he would cause, he pulled out his trusty revolver and spat a gust of Fiendfyre behind him. _'That should slow them down.'_

The fires quickly spread out to other growths. Fortunately, the favorable winds caused the flames to fan away from Harry. The magical flames would quickly devour any growth in its clutches and overwhelm the rangers and patrolmen who were studying the wreck and pursuing Harry from behind.

The enormous amount of warmth emanating from the forest fire also hid his heat signature, though the wizard didn't know that. He only cared about reaching his cache.

After a solid half hour of trekking the forest, he finally reached the edge, and with it a magnificent nighttime view of Stonehenge. The half-rotten stones had been restored to their original state through some inventive technique, allowing humanity to recover the monument to the height of its glory. The stones stood in perfect circles, always two upright and one resting on their tops. But Harry wasn't here to enjoy the sights. He still needed to recover some supplies.

Trundling his body forwards, he trudged along and approached the stone collection. Absently he noticed some security guards had dragged themselves from sleep in order to stop him. Harry easily stunned them. _'They're not as good as those Percival guys.'_ After destroying a small fence that kept out animals he finally reached the center of what used to be a major magical ley line. He looked up at the stones and frowned on the abundance of cameras. If he was about to enter his magical cache, it would bring up a lot of questions he wasn't prepared to answer. He shot them all as best as he could spot them, but he had no doubt he'd miss a few hidden ones. His time was short though, and he didn't really bother with the Statute of Secrecy.

'_There's no Wizarding World anymore to enforce it anyway.'_

He hunched over the grass and traced a careful pattern over the soil. Eventually, a rune lit up, and he was instantly teleported to a hidden cave buried deep beneath the surface. Only then did he let out his guard.

"Finally!"

The safehouse that greeting him welcomed him in open arms. Even if nine whole centuries had rotted the bed and more than a few of his supplies, it contained more magical equipment than he had carried with him into space. He limped over and lovingly caressed his old Firebolt broom. At least its top-of-the-line preserving charms had allowed it to survive the many centuries. The wizard grabbed it from its stand and went over to the magical trunk resting at the foot of what was once the bed. He opened it and dumped the flying broom inside. He had no time for elegance. He grabbed everything hanging loose and stuffed them into his trunk. His magical clothes, some surviving books, some mechanical trinkets, a collection of spare wands, and many, many more.

When he finally finished his packing he went over his rotted potions cabinet and retrieved a few energizing and rejuvenating potions. Drinking the ones that didn't look like rot after he shook them, he immediately regained his energy. He then stuffed the remaining surviving potions in a magical pouch as he stared forlornly at the Felix Felicis vial. A crack in its surface had allowed air to seep through, vaporizing its content over many years. He could have used the luck that the potion granted.

With a tired sigh, he finished up, shrunk his trunk and went over a chess board with the sets of pieces neatly aligned. Gingerly, he brushed his fingertip against the crown of the black queen—

—and landed in the midst of a Himalayan snow storm. His body flung down from the air and sank deep into the unpacked snow below. As usual, his advanced suit adjusted to the new circumstances and insulated him from the freezing chill. After clawing his way up the surface, the morning sun greeted his freezing face. All around him he could see nothing but desolate mountains, only interrupted by a few strange settlements here and there.

'_Perfect.'_

The portkey had not dumped him right inside his base at Mount Everest. That would just give any intruder an easy ticket inside his sanctuary. He still had to fly a good hour through the chilling snow before he reached that legendary mountain. Regretting his paranoia, he opened magical trunk and retrieved his Firebolt. He hoped its enchantments still lasted after all this time.

Harry kicked off against the snow and soared into the sky.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	36. I: Reach for the Sky - Repost

March 29, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Reach for the Sky_

* * *

Gravicorp maintained a hefty presence in the Himalayas. At one particular base, an observation room oversaw all its perimeter security. It made certain no intruders sneaked their way onto their exclusive testing grounds. Several workers kept an eye on the monitors, and anything brought to attention was dealt with the most appropriate response.

A nearby operator paid only marginal attention to his work. Against regulations, he had rigged an idle holoprojector to display the latest news. Currently all the networks were blaring about some crazy arsonist in Brittaan which caused two devastating chemically fueled fires that already wiped out an entire town and forest, killing hundreds and destroying billions in credits. The operator smirked a little as the news anchor told him that all the outlying megafarms were in threat, which if destroyed might cause a severe food shortage in that assigned sector.

Then his console started to beep red.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"We've detected a heat signature. There's an intruder flying in our perimeter."

"What?!" The supervisor went over to the security desk and leaned in to see the security footage. "What is that..?"

"It appears to be a man riding a wooden rod. With twigs attached to its end."

They almost couldn't believe the sight. How did the stick handle the stresses of flying and carrying a passenger? Where were the gravitic exhausts located? How did they manage to fit an engine in such a thin device?

"Shall I ready the laser cannon, sir?"

"No. That will certainly damage that.. flying staff device. I want it intact. What assets do we have near our intruder's flight path?"

"There's the scorpions, the thunderers, the gravitic troopers—"

"Yes, the last one. Send in the gravitic troopers to capture that brat."

"Are you aware, sir, that the gravitic trooper project is still in the testing phase?"

"I don't care. I want that stick intact. Contact the base that houses the troopers and tell them to suck it up."

"Very well, sir."

"Oh, and one more thing. Figure out the destination of our little guest and reinforce whatever base he is intent on reaching."

"Already done, sir. The Everbase is on full alert and will be mobilizing its defenses."

"..The Everbase, huh? I don't envy the kid. Colonel Habermas is going to eat him alive if he gets that far."

* * *

Earth wouldn't let him get away with killing hundreds of people so easily. Harry knew that every minute he was out in the open that he risked attracting unwelcome attention. Muggle technology surpassed many barriers in the last nine hundred years, and he had no doubt they possessed the capability to monitor every square inch of the surface of the planet. He suspected – but he wasn't sure – that even now, satellite cameras were pointed at him, tracking his every move.

He knew the risks. He had heard all about 'Earthtech' and how the birthplace of humanity was the wellspring of some of the most advanced technology of human cilivilization. Yet he batted away the warnings, knowing he had no choice. The curses were running full stop trying to drain him of magic, and he knew he only had a few days left until he was completely out. If that were to happen, it would be the end of him.

After only ten minutes of flying, he already met the opposition. A squad of.. armored men?.. flew out from one of the bases and were heading towards a solid intercept.

Harry already fired off his revolver at the approaching figures, but the winds, cold, and the turbulence of flight all interfered with his aim. Only when they came close enough did he managed to land a reductor at one of the heavily armored fellows.

The guy's armor caved in a little and caused the trooper to retreat, but it did not penetrate. _'The fuck… their armor must be at least Class III.'_

The gloves were off now. Harry had made the first shot, and the rest of the squad tittered more frantically around him to decrease the chance of another hit. One trooper flew close, his gravitic jetpack straining his armor, and fired some kind of gun.

A forceful yank immediately beset Harry, causing him to veer wildly off-target and thrashed him into a spin. As he started to recover from this another trooper fired another gravitic shot, mashing him with wild gravitic currents that played hell with Harry's sense of direction.

Harry continued to fire his reductors, only to come up short as his shots weakened. _'Damnit, I'm running out of blood to fuel this baby.'_ He holstered his weapon and prepared to do something desperate. The soldiers had successfully manage to slow him down. He picked the nearest trooper and zipped towards him, intent on barreling through.

The squad immediately sensed what their target intended and shifted tactics. A few of the troopers continued to fire gravitic blasts while the rest changed the settings of their gun to reveal a harpoon. In unison, they fired, flinging the projectile towards their rabid opponent.

"What the!?" Harry let out as he saw the harpoons bloom out into weighted nets that immediately enveloped him. The troopers who shot out the harpoons backed off, pulling taut the trap and leaving Harry completely immobile. A pair of unengaged troopers then hovered closer, their rifles set into stun mode. They aimed with the help of their suit's corrective targeting system and fired.

Their shots only met empty fire as Harry had bitten his lip to fuel his revolver with potent magical blood. An overpowered Sectumsempra shot out of the barrel of his weapon and tore the nets to shreds, catching one errant trooper, destroying his rifle but only scratching his armor.

Harry let himself drop downwards in order to regain his sense of direction. As soon as he had a solid idea of his orientation, he held his Firebolt and added his own speed to his drop, outpacing the gravitic troopers who couldn't match his incredible descent. When the mountainous rock was about to meet his head, Harry pulled up his broom and let his momentum be redirected away from the ground and traveled towards the side of a low mountain covered in trees. The endless trees provided momentary cover for him, though he doubted it would last.

'_Looks like I lost those flying men for now._' Pulling up, he landed roughly against the cold soil of the valley side. He immediately dismounted his broom and went for his pack to retrieve another magical item. Pulling the invisibility cloak, he immediately draped it over his form, then carefully crept away from his landing spot. After he reached a fair distance he finally stopped to catch his breath.

'_These Terrans are relentless, and they have all kinds of toys I never saw in the colonies.'_

And as expected, the troopers arrived soon after, descending from the tree tops and using the gravitic motivators spread around their body and back to slow their fall. They didn't communicate outwardly, but from their coordinated movements the wizard was sure they were on a comm link. They were investigating his landing point and were spreading out to comb the area. Harry was certain he wouldn't stay undiscovered for long – even the invisibility cloak had limits.

With time against him, he went for his pouch and retrieved a few set of potions. He knew imbibing many potions in a short period of time was detrimental to your health. The ingredients of different potions might interact with each other to produce unintended effects, and his overall toxicity level would rise, poisoning him from within. Yet again he had no choice and drank several mixtures that replenished his blood, increased his senses and allowed him some resistance to cold. After that he rummaged through some priceless magical devices that he raided from a few alchemists and picked out a seemingly random set of machines.

He first set the toy soldier on the ground. He winded up the key and let the Napoleonic soldier march forward. Harry then relocated in order to prevent the troopers from tracing his location. At another site he set down an odd, mushroom shaped device made out of brass which he fed with a little of his blood. The final device he kept back. His work done, he slipped away under the cover of his cloak.

The first thing that the Gravitic Troopers noticed was the toy soldier. The small, cat-sized contraption trampled awkwardly over the uneven ground. The toy swung his arms in lockstep to the beat, hacking his bayoneted musket like a sword. Weary of a trap, the troopers kept their distance from the strange magical device.

_"Vive L'Empereur! Vive L'Empereur!"_

The soldiers didn't understand the long-dead language, nor did they recognize the uniform. The thing had been originally invented by a wizard engineer as a present to Napoleon. As that age had passed, the toy slowly changed hands from noble to noble, who used it as a guard in their children's bedroom. While it did not stop the more experienced wizards, muggles and weaker magicals always got fooled by the innocent looking device.

One trooper finally had enough of the contraption and raised his rifle to tear the toy apart with a ball of gravitic stress.

His strike only managed to knock the toy soldier flat on its back, which puzzled everyone. Its arms and legs continued to make those useless repetitive motions that would normally propel it forward but did nothing at all in its fallen state.

_"Vive L'Empereur!"_ Suddenly, the toy managed to right itself and marched towards the troopers at twice the rate. It even yelled _"Vive L'Empereur! Vive L'Empereur!"_ twice as fast.

Someone tried a small beam laser attack, only for it to scorch the clothing of the toy. The device's eyes glowed for a moment before it started to march even faster than before just before. This time all the gravitic troopers let their arsenal loose at the uncannily resilient object.

When they finally exhausted their capacitors, the now-naked Napoleonic soldier still stood standing. Its eyes flashed, and yelled _"Vive L'Empereur!"_ for a final time before firing its tiny musket—

-The bullet of which penetrated cleanly through the face plate of the nearest gravitic trooper. The magically infused bullet tore clean through his left eye and into his brain only to bore right out of the skull and helmet. The man died instantly.

The squad leader instantly tossed a grenade at the now-menacing toy and made a frantic gesture of retreat. The squad all lifted into the air and broke through the treeline. One soldier who lagged behind the others just managed to capture the sound of _"Vive L'Empereur!"_ before a tiny bullet drilled through his back and hit his heart, delivering another instant death. By then the windup toy lost all its energy and collapsed, though the troopers were not aware of that fact.

It was time for Harry's other toy to come into play. The mushroom-shaped device detected the presence of people in the air above it. Its entire frame shook as it analyzed and predicted the pattern of each of the troopers' movements.

The strangely-shaped device had originally been commissioned by a herbalist who lived in an area with lots of magical beasts flying around. There were once many such brass mushrooms, but as the Wizarding World began to die off the original artificer had no time to spend on such fancies, letting each of them break apart. This was his final remaining legacy.

The mushroom's head parted like a blooming flower, revealing rows and rows of deathly needles. With an invisible switch, the needles exploded outwards and instantly filled the sky with poisonous wrath. Tips meant to pierce through scales easily passed through the sophisticated infantry armor of the troopers, riddling their bodies with magical poison meant to slow down a dragon if it came to that. Even if much of its potency degraded over the centuries, to a regular muggle, the contact meant a quick death.

Much later on, a second squad of gravitic troopers arrived to investigate the death of the first squad, but by then Harry had sneaked far away. All the troopers found were the needles, the corpses of their comrades and the remnants of the two spent magical contraptions.

* * *

Colonel Habermas was a career company man. He grew up in a Gravicorp town, went to Gravicorp schools, worked his way up to several of Gravicorp's defense subsidiaries before accepting the responsibility to lead Gravicorp's premiere testing area. The Everbase, named after the mountain it was based at, provided the company with a good testing ground for extreme weather and height conditions. All of Gravicorp's most adaptable toys were pushed to their very limits at this site. Habermas took his responsibility very seriously.

That was why this unprovoked attack made him furious. He stood at the control room, behind the technicians which managed the security displays. He saw in helpless astonishment how the odd intruder made a mockery of Gravicorp's next generation combat armor. With seemingly antique-looking devices at that!

"Don't touch the objects!" The colonel ordered as one trooper was about to poke the fallen soldier toy. "Mark the location and let the retrieval team handle them. Focus your search on the intruder."

The colonel leaned back as the gravitic troopers fell back on their training and tried to find a trace of the boy. After a quarter of an hour of searching for any traces, one trooper stumbled upon a small heat trail of the intruder's footsteps, and called upon the rest of his squad to follow it. They had sniffed out the boy's path and were rapidly closing the distance. The footsteps led downwards from the valley and reached lower and lower until—

—it ended at a stream. Habermas swore. The intruder knew what he was doing. Now they completely lost track of him. His technicians were trying their best to put their best detection algorithms on the security camera footage. Millions of sensors were spread out in the entire area, but if the boy used decent camouflage systems it might take a while to detect his passage.

"Shall we call for reinforcements, sir?" His aide suggested gently, hoping the colonel wouldn't refuse his suggestion out of hand.

"No. If I show that our company's cutting edge technology can't handle a single intruder on foot, then all I'll accomplish is embarrassing the entire corporation. I can't allow this single person to humiliate us while the world is watching. I'm already certain at least fifteen spy satellites are monitoring the strange disturbances in our region. We have to put up a good show for them to maintain our company's dignity."

"Ah, about that sir, we have received an incoming message from Percival Integrated. It seems their spy satellite has measured the body dimensions and observed the attire of our intruder, and they say it is an exact match for the criminal that has been rampaging just an hour earlier in Brittaan."

"They're connected?" Puzzled, Habermas retrieved his datapad and flicked over to the news of the day. He pressed on a video and let the news bulletin play out. He compared the dark figure in his pad to the stills of their intruder. They did in fact appear to be one and the same. "How is this possible? Are they clones? Androids? Twins?"

"We are not detecting any unusual electromagnetic activity in the area, so we're fairly certain he is not a remotely controlled android."

The colonel's command team swapped ideas while he gathered his thoughts. _'Two identical attackers. In isolation, their actions might make sense, but together? Why mix terrorism with corporate espionage? Is our intruder actually out to steal our secrets? He entered our perimeter without hiding his presence. He's not a spy – at best a distraction for another covert operation. But that is unlikely due to the events on Brittaan. That leaves only one motivation: the intruder is out to humiliate not just Percival, but Gravicorp as well. Why? To promote new technology? To intimidate us?"_

Whether intentionally or not, the interloper made this crisis into a public spectacle. The pride of his corporation was at stake. Sure, he could call in reinforcements or have the entire area bombarded, but that resulted only in huge collateral damage that toook billions of credits to clean up and restore. While Habermas was not such a bonus whore like some of his other employees, he still had many years to go before his retirement.

"Bring the base to full alert. Order everyone to wear their combat suit and have our off-duty personnel ready themselves."

"Yes, sir. The alert is issued, mobilizing now."

"Have our contingent of gravitic troopers patrol the outer perimeter. Leave the inner perimeter to the bulldogs. Have our thunderer gunships fueled and manned by hold them in reserve for now."

"That leaves Project K. Will you be deploying the prototype as well, colonel?"

"No. It's too incomplete and I don't want to show our competition what we're developing. Have K on standby for now."

"Routing the orders, sir."

"Good. I'll head to the armory to suit up. Lieutenant, you're in charge while I'm away."

Habermas had a bad feeling about the situation. While it was normally impossible for a single intruder waltz over his entire base, the enemy already revealed he was far more deathly than his appearance previously suggested. No one could afford to underestimate the man and his bag of tricks.

In order to protect his company's assets, he had to do everything he can to stop the lone attacker. The colonel entered the armory and suited himself up while evaluating his counter strategies. No matter what, the intruder would go no further.

* * *

Harry hoped that using the stream would make them lose his scent. Having been chased plenty of times already, he already had an inkling of what kind of methods these muggles used to track him. Obviously they didn't just rely on visual identification. All those months with Claris had taught him a good deal on how many different tools there were, from sound, infrared, footprint, air disturbances and many, many more. He only hoped the Himalayas were too expansive to cover them all with expensive sensor equipment.

He spent an entire day walking up the stream then stepping out to continue on foot. Only when he was certain nothing was nearby did he mount his broom while still under his cloak. It didn't fit quite well, and he had to travel slowly in order to avoid revealing the ends of his broom. But slowly he managed to cross the valley and turn around the bend to encounter the majestic sight of the tallest mountain on Earth.

The enormous formation jutted out of the Earth and pierced the very clouds. Its surface formed a cragged snow-covered pattern of raw, uncontrolled nature. Mount Everest truly was a sight to behold.

The only thing that marred the sight was the presence of a large military base close to the midway point, and an enormous amount of hovering patrols. Harry could make out the specs of the gravitic troopers, along with a helicopter like vehicle, but without the rotors. It was obvious in their patterns that they were guarding the base, but plenty of patrols covered the rest of the mountain, probably to guard against flank attacks.

That was annoying. His destination lay close to the top and in order to reach it with his Firebolt he would come quite close to the patrols. _'I'll have to come around to the other side of the mountain in order to have the best chance.'_ But Harry immediately discarded that idea, feeling his time was coming close.

'_They're awfully protective of that base. Well, let's give them a reason to think that's my objective.'_

He flew closer to the base until he was certain he could go no further without being detected. He spotted the details of the Gravicorp base more clearly now. The patrols, the security towers, the electrified wire.. they really didn't want anyone to intrude upon them. Harry smirked at that. He reached a hand into his pocket and picked out the final artificed contraption.

The winds weren't completely in his favor, but it would do. He set the mechanical rabbit down and activated it. He then opened his potion pouch and retrieved a flask of glowing red substance. He carefully pulled out the stopper and drenched the rabbit with it. Harry then swiftly flew away before he caught the poisonous fumes.

The rabbit's ruby eyes glowed as it started to hop forward. Making no attempt to hide itself, the gravitic troopers quickly spotted the anomaly approaching them. Having been warned of strange brass devices that acted as traps, the troopers retreated, letting the heavy guns have a try. A pair of thunderer gravitic gunships hovered quickly to the scene and acquired a lock on the rabbit. After receiving permission to fire, they let loose a volley of heavy gravitic missiles which tore the rabbit and all of the surrounding snow and rock into pulverized bits.

The Gravicorp personnel sighed a little as the smoke cleared and nothing was left instead of pieces. They then felt horror as the brass bits morphed into miniature rabbits that all started to hop forward like a swarm of insects. The entire guard line then let lose all of their heavy weaponry, blasting every stray piece of brass they could spot. The only thing they accomplished was creating a veritable tsunami of miniature rabbits that by then reached the line and started to eat away into the armor. Those lucky enough not to have fallen prey to the rabbits were quickly ordered to retreat behind the walls, which then emitted a strong gravitic barrier, halting the progress of the tiny rabbits.

Colonel Habermas had been so fooled by that initial assault that he called in half his outlying force to reinforce his base. He didn't know when the intruder would strike, only that it might happen at any time. He wanted to be ready for the stranger with his lethal devices.

'_Looks like that fooled them.' _Harry thought as he saw many gravitic troopers return back to base. That left only a handful in the way to the top. The wizard was out of offensive devices, and the troopers were too dispersed in any case to catch them with a single attack. He had several choices now: he could either attack head on, simply speed away, or make his way with stealth. All of his options entailed many different risks.

In the end, he chose to a combination of attack and flight. Carefully he removed his invisibility cloak and stuffed it back into his pack. He could have retrieved another device, or take another potion, but it wouldn't improve his chances. This final leg up the slopes of Mount Everest had to be overcome by himself. This was the moment when he proved himself worthy of his title as the last human wizard.

With a heaving breath, he kicked off the rock he was standing on and zipped upwards, defying gravity as he propelled his broom to reach the heavens. It took a solid minute before the gravitic troopers to notice him, and that was only because he shot out his pistol and landed a carefully aimed reductor at one of their numbers. The reductor knocked the man's helmet hard, causing him to lose consciousness and plunge down until his suit's emergency protocols slowed his descent.

The troopers, now fully alerted by the intruder's formidable capabilities, spread apart and flew upwards in order to maintain their distance. Some of them fired off gravitic stresses in the flight path of the intruder, slowing him down and disorienting him, while others carrying lethal beam lasers tried to hit the elusive target.

Harry immediately focused on the beam rifle wielding soldiers. He knew very well the devastating capabilities of those guns. He also knew from Claris' lessons that beam rifles tended to have short capacities. However, just one lucky hit might kill him off then and there.

'_Damnit, what do I do?!'_

He had no energy left to apparate or cast a quick spell. His way up was blocked and to go back down was not an option. If he couldn't break through.. he'd either die or fall into an eternal sleep. Harry's heart thumped faster and faster as the critical moment arrived. Either he would make it, or he would not. There were no other choices.

His gun arm lifted up and fired off his depleting pistol. One short spray of Fiendfyre blinded the troopers' vision and concealed Harry's next movements. When the unnatural fire wafted away from lack of something to burn, the wizard barreled through the smoke and almost collided against one of the troopers. Harry squeezed another shot and blasted his opponent's face, making him lose control. He then yanked the rifle from the trooper and finished the disoriented soldier off with his own weapon.

While his handling of the heavy rifle was much less accurate, he was willing to keep down the trigger and let the rifle overload as it caught another trooper. The harried wizard then let go of the dangerously glowing rifle before spurting back upwards. The remaining gravitic troopers were still too stunned by the deaths of two of their comrades to regain pursuit, but by then Harry had already overtaken their cautious approach and held the height advantage. He bit his lip again and let his depleted revolver take a good measure of his lifeblood. Turning around, Harry aimed one last time and let out a final spray of Fiendfyre, this time actually catching two soldiers who came too close. He then whipped away towards the top.

* * *

Colonel Habermas noticed something was wrong when several troopers reported that their suits were responding jerkily to their commands. His technicians at the trooper lab quickly pulled up the diagnostics and noticed that the armor's weak points were corroding. Soon after the Thunderer pilots reported signs of corrosion as well. A mental alarm rang in the colonel's mind by then. The intruder deployed another unconventional assault.

"Are the gravitic walls still holding?"

"Y-Yes.. but.. the emitters are under stress! Something is damaging them! We're compensating, but it's not going to work for long. Sir."

"Order everyone to retreat back to the inner perimeter. Order them to abandon any thunderer or suit which already show signs of damage. And try to detect whatever is causing the damage!"

"Colonel, there's a substance in the air. It's some sort of mist, composition unknown, but it's highly corrosive."

"Sir! Gravitic walls are holding the substance back but the particles already inside our perimeter is eating away at the emitters!"

"Send in a repair team to the emitters to clean them up. No matter what, we need them active to hold back the mist."

There was one thing all the major corporations on Earth could agree on. The use of nuclear, biological or chemical weapons posed too much of a risk to their fragile planet. While they had the technology to recover from the most grievous toxic circumstances, the expense it involved was enormous. Thus, for the sake of the planet (and their bottom line), the use of any such weaponry at any scale was strictly prohibited. To see a brazen intruder carelessly deploy a chemical attack was beyond all bounded rationality. The black-clad stranger and the organization backing him were simply mad.

"The south emitters are failing! Our base is vulnerable, sir!"

"Call out a toxic alarm! Everyone in the base move inside and head as far underground as you can. Transfer area command to outpost Zeta. A-Also.. call to headquarters, tell them we need reinforcements.."

"Yes, sir.."

At another part of the world, the CEO of Gravicorp along with the board of directors watched the proceedings in silence. When Colonel Habermas finally admitted defeat, the CEO sighed and turned to his colleagues.

"This has been a total disaster. An unknown terrorist has penetrated our restricted testing grounds and made a mockery out of our most advanced technologies. Our stock price has already plummeted by ten percent, and current prognosis states that it will only get worse."

"That's trillions of credits.. all wiped out."

"We need to contain the situation quickly. Send in our battle fleets."

"Against a single intruder? Are you kidding me? If we need so many big guns to eliminate one tiny pest, our stock will take a nosedive!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," The CEO admonished quietly. "Let us not get caught up in a spiral of escalation. All we need to do is to end the situation with a firm hand." He then opened a special panel and inputted some commands. "Let the heavens speak for themselves."

* * *

Far above the sky, beyond the peak of Mount Everest, all the way into space, floated many orbital satellites. One of them in particular engaged its thrusters as an invisible command passed through. Its cylindrical form lengthened itself as a protrusion stuck out. The barrel seemingly heated up, piling up massive amounts of energy within.

As the next command wired through, the orbital cannon unleashed its payload, discharging a deathly beam that instantly tore through the atmosphere and crashed against the infected base, burning it and everything in it into vapor and slag.

Far up in the distance, Harry almost fell off his broom as he felt the massive pillar of light wash its immense heat over his barely protected form. He hadn't expected something so extreme at all and he nearly collided against an ice rock due to his momentary distraction.

While the beam lasted only a few seconds, the enormous energy poured into the discharge rapidly spread to the surrounding area. Ice and snow suddenly flash-boiled into steam or droplets of water. Trees and other growth that had been eternal companions to the chill were suddenly faced with fire and flame. The massive disturbance caused many avalanches around Mount Everest and the surrounding mountains, one of them almost engulfing the unfortunate wizard who stuck too close to the mountain side.

Harry dodged boulders and deathly packs of snow alike in his desperate attempt to reach the top. His heart was straining his at his body. The air had grown considerably thinner and it was making him harder and harder to breathe. While he had taken a potion earlier to supplement him with oxygen, it didn't last very long. _'If only I could cast a Bubblehead charm!'_

Then, after hanging on to his broom for his dear life, his ordeal ended. He spotted a particular crest near the top that could be nothing else than his destination. He eagerly flew towards it and went over the lip, almost crashing to the frozen snow-bound floor as he tried to slow down to a standstill.

"I made it.. I fucking made it!"

He half-stumbled off his firebolt and dragged it limply behind him as he approached the cave he had once warded heavily with invisibility and muggle repelling wards. His haven was close. He needed to take only a few more steps to get past and encounter the massive door that guarded his base.

As Harry limped past the threshold that would hide him from the rest of the world, the orbital cannon fired a second, shorter burst at the last detected location of the intruder. The weapon carved an entire gash into the iconic mountain, glassing much of its surface and boiling practically all of the snow placed on its peak.

Inside the hidden cave, a severely scorched wizard limped forward. Pain wracked his entire form. His Firebolt had literally turned into a bolt of fire. His pack and protective clothing shielded him from the heat but even they couldn't protect his skin against that much energy. He weakly tried to retrieve a salve to treat his burn wounds, only to see his potion pouch crumble into ashes.

The almost-burned boy had no choice. He dragged his tortured form forward, deeper into the damaged and cracking cave, towards the heavily runed door that guarded his sanctuary. _'Just a few more.. damnit!'_

Harry couldn't feel his lower body anymore. Several half-scorches wounds leaked out blood, weakening him with each passing second. His right arm refused to respond to his will, leaving him with only one limb to propel himself forward. _'It's so.. too heavy. I'm too heavy..'_

He could go no further. The door was just ahead of him. Just one more step would let his finger brush against the wards. Yet he just couldn't reach it. As the darkness crept in his vision, he almost laughed at the situation. He was falling apart just as he was about to reach safety.

'_Is this.. fucking payback for all I've done.. Gaia..?'_

Despite his wrecked lungs, Harry continued to chuckle as all strength had left his body. His fingers reached for the door.. only to come up a hand's length short.

Was this the end of him? The last, great human wizard, dead due to a random laser from the heavens?

Just as he was about to pass out, the door in front of him hissed, then slid inwards to reveal a bright, white light within.

"Wh-what..?"

A single dark speck grew in his tearing eyes. The shape manifested itself as a silhouette against the brightness of the sanctuary within. The figure reached out and stretched out a clean, soft hand as pale as a translucent pearl.

With a burst of strength he didn't know he possessed, he took it, then felt himself dragged into his hideout. The massive stone door then turned shut, sealing the area from all who came from outside, as it had always done for the last millennia.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	37. I: The Healing - Repost

March 30, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Healing_

* * *

The light. He could only remember that bright, white light. Just thinking about it made Harry succumb to bliss. The light represented paradise. The dark that followed after it was ominous.

He wanted to stay within that light, bask in its soothing warmth, and never let go.

'_Is this heaven? Or is this hell?'_

The light and dark made it difficult for him to determine. Somewhere and somewhen, he was floating. The sensation was much like being a ghost – one who floated in an infinite expanse of light, ever journeying towards an unreachable destination. To sail in such a purposeless manner.. was this heaven?

After an indeterminate time, he noticed another presence beside him. If the world was light, the individual showed up as a shadow. If the world was dark, the guide appeared as a beacon. Harry wanted to call out to the being and ask for its name, yet his mouth, if he had one, did not let out a sound.

Frustration started to seep in his being. Where was he? Why couldn't he do anything? Who was his visitor? He came to hate the dark and light that ruled his worked and strained against his invisible bonds.

How did he end up in this helpless state?

'_Ah.. the heat. The burning light. It scorched me.'_

The light was not natural, he was certain. Nor did his tired state detect any magical imbalance. _'Muggles, then. They've progressed so far that they are able to let the sky rain pillars of fire. What else can they do that wizards can't?'_

The Wizarding World had achieved many great things. Hiding an entire society, creating great artifacts, heal grievous injuries, and many, many more things. But the Wizarding World was also a stagnant world. Its citizens were arrogant and content to sit on the laurels of their predecessor. Tradition made up its foundation, but eventually turned into a suffocating prison. The great social advances of the muggle world had largely gone passed the stifled society. Democracy, universal suffrage, equality among the races… the wizards and witches rejected any new advances in society. They were bigoted, hateful and incredibly destructive.

Just seeing the state of the muggle world after nine hundred years of uninterrupted progress made him feel vindicated in his decision to destroy the Wizarding World. The muggles had invented many great technologies, conquered the climate, and spread out into space. They were well on their way to master the entire solar system and its vast and inexhaustible resources. Sure, there were imperfections. Wars, piracy, corruption prevailed in many corners of the solar system. Yet, Harry felt that no matter what, the state of human civilization would always advance, always finding something new, and overcome whatever challenges they faced. This hunger for more, this _ambition_ that the muggles held so deeply was what made them infinitely better than even the most Slytherin of wizards.

If Harry hadn't destroyed the Wizarding World, the muggles would have finished them off eventually. Since the witch hunts of the middle ages, unempowered humans have often let jealousy rule their emotions. They couldn't stand someone who was superior to them. Having two different human societies live on the same, cramped world was a recipe for disaster. Only one of the races could survive – Harry merely saved the muggle world the trouble and cleaned up the trash himself. None of their kind needed to find out what a foul, decadent society their cousins had been. Harry would take those terrible memories to his grave.

This was his belief. He held on to it, nurturing it, and never letting him doubt himself for his radical actions. The old magical society was a scab that leeched off of humanity's advancements. Harry had saved the world by destroying an infected part.

Before long, the injured wizard noticed his strength started to return. The bright hazy light grew darker, while the oppressive shadows became less menacing. The hovering figure that sometimes came to his side became more distinct. The shape grew sharper and more defined. As he slowly built up his strength, he became more lucid and observed more details from his surroundings. Gone were the monotone planes of black and white. He grew strong enough to separate dreams from reality.

At one, lucid moment, Harry began to speak at the specter that attended his body. His itching throat struggled to produce the sounds. "W-Who…?"

The silhouette, now clearly a female, merely shook her head and continued to check his bandages. She applied some strange salve over some of his burnt skin then went on to do a myriad of indecipherable actions before she disappeared.

On and on the routine went on. He woke up in a state too weak to do anything. The woman came by his bedside and tended to his injuries. Harry absently noticed the pale lady didn't use any wands. Yet he still recognized the smells of magical ingredients. _'Is she a magical? Or a squib?'_ The thought that she was a muggle had crossed his mind, but that was a sheer impossibility. Muggles didn't have the magic to infuse potions with their reality-defying effects.

If she was a magical of some sort as Harry increasingly began to suspect, then _who_ and _what_ was she? The existence of Star proved that magical creatures still existed in the future, or at least their legacy in the form of mutations. He wondered what species his – now brunette – nurse descended from. Veela? Werewolf? Giant?

Nah, too small to be a giant, though if the blood had thinned out that much over the generations it _might_ be possible. But unlikely.

On some days, his unnamed tender stripped all of his bandages and treated his sensitive healing skin to a sponge bath. Her supple hands would spread some sort of healing oil over his back and extremities, and then slowly work his body through. It felt sensational. He always wanted her to continue with her ministrations, but she frequently ended his pleasure before he got settled in. He'd moan and whine, but the woman would just press a finger against his lips and let out a shush. Sometimes he felt he was being mothered! How humiliating.

Yet despite his many irritations, he came to enjoy her presence. Though she was a highly suspicious person for intruding upon his sanctuary, he could not summon the anger to accuse her of malevolence. She didn't appear to have it in her. She was always gentle, always smiling. Harry felt entranced by the lady. What she did for him was.. nice.

Onwards the days went passed. Under the girl's gentle treatment, Harry started to recover more of his strength. It was after another luxurious sponge bath that he finally realized that he should have fallen into a coma by now.

"..The curses.. magic drain.."

"Hush now." The girl pressed on him in that familiar way. "There is no need to worry. A temporary matrix has been setup to neutralize the effect of your curses."

She gestured to something Harry had not noticed before. A set of very familiar blue crystals were placed in the four corners of his healing room. Underneath them sat a finely drawn pentagram which evidently powered the crystals and made them emit some force that halted his curses.

"How..?"

"Oh you don't need to concern yourself with such a trivial matter. A more permanent solution is on its way. Just have a bit more patience please, Harry."

How in the name of Salazar Slytherin did the girl know how to counteract his curses? Even he himself did not know and had expected to spend a marathon in his library to figure out the individual spell components alone. To have the crystal pentagram ready for him meant that this girl had a frightening amount of foreknowledge. How much did she really know about magic? Did she perhaps read through his entire library? Even if she couldn't use wand-magic, there were plenty dangerous alternatives if you tried hard enough.

That thought brought him back to the girl's capabilities. While he couldn't know for sure, she had to be the one who drew the pentagram and set the blue crystals. That meant she possessed passing knowledge in Ancient Runes and Arithmetic. Her skill in tending to her wounds using potions he was pretty sure he did not have in stock meant that she could likely brew potions as well. What more did this surprising woman possess?

Then her mind whipped back at those blue crystals. He had never seen _anything_ like them except when his opponents trapped him with it. For the girl to have access to the exact same substance meant..

What did it mean? That she was a part of the enemy? That she was a genius who instantly deduced what he needed as he crawled inside his sanctuary?

After a day of agonizing, he eventually decided to ask her straight. "Crystal.. prison.. enemy.. you?"

A coy smile met his struggling face. The girl merely flipped her hair and gave him a knowing look. "If I was your enemy, you'd already be dead. Would your enemy spend so much time and effort to heal you and bring back your magic?"

She had a point there. Before he could dwell on it further, the girl opened a small vial and poured its content in Harry's unwilling mouth.

"Drink, Harry. You don't need to worry about anything else except for your health. I promise to take good care of you."

His eyelids grew heavier as the girl walked away, humming an unfamiliar tune.

* * *

Claris, now the current lord and master of the _Immortal Marauder_, was restless. They were three months into the journey to Venus, and during that time nothing had happened. A few scout ships from Earth had been dispatched to tail them, but after two months they finally broke off. They couldn't have done anything anyway, since the _Marauder_'s broadsides could easily make mincemeat out of frigates. Only a pack of destroyers or another cruiser possessed a serious chance at defeating her ship, but such an expense was needlessly wasteful for the ever efficiency-minded Terrans. They took their cost-benefit analyses _way_ too seriously.

She leaned back from her desk in her quarters and stared at the ceiling above. Life without Harry felt.. empty. The boy, even when he became weakened, had always been a force of nature. Someone who was _more_ than a man, more than just a transhuman. Harry was a veritable demigod with the power he had at his disposal. Just being near him intoxicated her and sent a thrill up her legs.

'_And yet I still haven't figured out my feelings for him.'_ Claris thought, thinking back on the moment after Dr. Selner was taken away. Harry's heart had broken at that moment, leaving herself in a prime position to pick up the pieces. Yet.. she didn't take advantage of the situation.

..Why?

It took her a long time to figure out her inner thoughts, but she eventually realized she wanted something more out of their relationship. Claris wasn't interested in becoming a deceitful whore like Selner. Perhaps a year ago she would have had no qualms about milking a man for all he's worth, but after all she had been through, Harry deserved better.

'_Do I love him? Do I adore him like Selner loves him, or do I crave for him in a different way?'_

Her doubts threw her mad. Sometimes she felt she needed to let out her frustrations, leading her to visit the brig. Their sole prisoner, some beautiful blond bitch called Star, was her vehicle to vent her anger. Anger in her confusion, anger in her feelings towards Harry, anger in her difficulty leading a ship in Harry's shadow, **anger in the fact that Harry fucked Star twice**. It was at that point that she dispensed with the whip and simply punched Star's defenseless, naked body into a pulp.

The former pirate knew she couldn't kill the blond seductress. Harry's parting set of commands had been very adamant about that, something about Star being descended from Harry's old friend. How old, she didn't know, but it obviously meant a lot to him. So with more than a little reluctance, she let her Chief Medical Officer (this time an old ugly guy instead of a voluptuous whore) patch Star up and make sure she didn't suffer any permanent injuries.

The thought that Harry wanted to preserve Star merely to enjoy her body further made Claris feel very queasy. It was just _oh_ so easy to arrange a power grid accident that would destroy the cell Star resided in. Yet she knew in her heart she couldn't get away with it. The crew all thought that Claris pined for Harry – she'd be pointed out as the immediate suspect. While the commander entertained a rather naughty fantasy of being turned into Harry's pet (her vibrator had seen much use these last three months), she knew he would do much worse for betraying his trust.

In the end, the ultimate reason that stayed her hand was trust. Trust restrained her from taking advantage from Harry's loss of Dr. Selner. Trust made her veer away from outright killing Star. Trust drove her to take care of Harry's ship, so that he had a haven to return to after his adventure on Earth.

'_Of all the subordinates he has at his disposal, Harry trusts me the most. He trusts me with leading his crew and safeguarding his ship.'_

She also guessed that if he had the power, he'd entrust his entire estate to her. Sadly, his marriage with Amande meant that the snobby bitch had her claws firmly in Harry's assets on Io. _'But she'll never get her filthy paws on this ship.'_

Another measure of Harry's trust was the power he had granted her. She didn't know how it worked, only that it did and that no one else enjoyed a similar gift. With a satisfied smirk, she called out, "Arnaud, _**Dobby**_!"

Oh how she loved to sling that arrogant ghost to her location. The power she held over Arnaud wasn't as extensive as her captain was capable of, but it would do. The rumpled ghost quickly recovered from her summons and sat up as straight as he could.

"Yes, madame?"

"How fares the crew? Is there any trouble stewing?"

"Nothing more than the usual rowdiness amongst spacers. Cleveland is more than capable of disciplining them."

"Not _that_ kind of trouble, Arnaud. I meant the more serious kind of trouble. The mutiny kind."

The ghost raised a single eyebrow. "We are all ever-loyal to our Lord and Master. The word mutiny doesn't even exist in our lexicon."

"Don't play games with me. Are there any signs of discontent forming among the disaffected crewmen?"

"While we have many spacers who don't like the status quo, there are no serious discussions on usurping your control. They do not have a strong alternative figurehead to rally behind. Something you are well aware of, seeing as you handled most of the recruitment in order to filter out any agitators."

"Oh, you noticed my handiwork, have you?" Claris regained her smirk. "I may have never captained a ship, but I know more than enough to run the _Marauder_. Nothing goes by on this ship without my approval."

"I doubt you'd approve of your subordinates pleasuring themselves while watching illegally obtained footage of your torture sessions with Star."

Oddly, Claris didn't lower her smirk in any way. Arnaud quickly deduced the meaning behind the lack of response. "You know. And somehow, you approve."

"Approve is a bit strong, but yes, I allow them their pitiful fantasies. I made sure to leave a small backdoor to the brig's security logs. I only left it open for a day, but it was enough for my intrepid subordinates to download all the footage of my time with Star."

"But why? I doubt Harry approves."

"He wouldn't disapprove either. Some things are just beneath him. This is one of them. He couldn't care less who jerked off to who."

"There has to be a point to all of this. Why? To show off your strength? To imprint an impression of dominance to your crew?"

"You can keep guessing, ghost. It doesn't concern you."

The commander's reasons were more insidious than Arnaud's suggestions. She wanted the crew to watch Star, see her degraded, and regard her as someone worse than trash. When Harry inevitably returned, that impression would slowly leak into his attitude, causing him to eventually abandon Star (and toss the harlot straight out of the airlock hopefully).

Of course, it was also likely that her actions might backfire, in that Harry didn't care of his crew's opinion of Star. Claris might even be doing Harry's job by breaking Star's resolve before he even returned. The woman shrugged, as in either case Star would never become Harry's true companion. His mind worked strange like that. _'Well, if there's one thing about Harry that's the same for every other human, it's that he's a man.'_

Men tended to share the same urges, the same desires, and the same behavioral patterns. The more primal the urge, the more savage they became. Women and sex were one of the few universal constants that bent men in the same direction. Harry would prove no different.

Claris dismissed Arnaud and went back to her work. She began to refine the drill schedule for the next seven days. Drills, simulations and exercises were one of her most effective tools of relieving her crew's boredom. It had the added bonus of familiarizing them with the ship and letting them become more proficient in their duties. While there were limits to what she could achieve with a half-crewed ship, they would not be standing clueless when they faced adversity.

'_Harry will be proud to see what I've achieved.'_

* * *

The days of dark and light continued, though with each passing day Harry's eyesight improved up to the point that he could observe more colors. He spotted the blue of the crystals, the white of his hospital bed, the drab cave-worn surface of his infirmary and the cabinet of standard healing potions to his sides.

Harry wondered why the woman didn't use them. He was fairly certain he had a few potions stocked up there that could bring instant relief to his burn wounds. Perhaps the girl wasn't knowledgeable enough to know about them? Or maybe the woman wanted to rely on her own work. Was she simply doing the best of her abilities to heal her, or did she purposefully try to control his healing process for her own ends? It was so frustrating to have these doubts in his mind, but every time he asked the girl, she skillfully deflected his inquiries.

Was she an enemy, or a friend? An ally, or a nemesis? What kind of girl with such extensive access to his magical supplies would even stick around in his dreary sanctuary? Were there more of her 'kind' out there on Earth?

"Who.. who the _fuck_ are you, woman?!"

The brunette shushed him, like always, and mirthfully said, "That is for me to know and you to find out."

It was incredibly frustrating to be at her mercy. While she definitely proved her intention to heal him, Harry knew very well it could have ended otherwise. There were more than enough malevolent souls out there who had no qualms about extracting every benefit from his mind and body. If some corporation like Gravicorp had their hands on him, he had no doubt he'd end up in a twisted science experiment like the psi-ops kids. To have your natural born gifts be twisted like that, forced into expressing it and burning your body from within was a great travesty.

Absently he acknowledged the situation was his fault to begin with. If he hadn't neutered the wizards and witches of his time, they might have expanded into space with the muggles. There would have been an adequate magical society on every station, colony and planet.

That is, if the Wizarding World got their heads out of their uptight asses long enough to acknowledge that muggles were smart enough to travel in space. Somehow, he doubted the proud wizards of his time were even capable of acknowledging such a truth. The reality they purported to live in had grown more and more divergent from the world of the muggles.

Eventually, the day arrived where everything changed. Harry was surprised to find he stayed awake longer than an hour. The girl, now clearly dressed in a witch's robe, suddenly did something that brought Harry a lot of pain. She removed the blue crystals and took them away.

"Bitch, what are you doing?!"

She didn't respond and left, leaving Harry to feel the full brunt of his curses sucking away at his magical core. He'd run dry within the day if he couldn't get those crystals back. The woman eventually returned a quarter of an hour later, but by then the pain had made its mark on his body.

"Fucking.. skank.. I should fucking.. rape you.."

"Quiet now. Save your strength. You can do whatever you want later on. For now, just follow my lead."

The girl then carefully lifted his body and rolled him over to a gravitic stretcher. _'So she doesn't appear to have the magic to levitate my body. Or perhaps she's hiding her true capabilities on purpose. Argh, it's so frustrating!'_

The girl led him out of the infirmary and through the familiar corridors. It quickly became evident where his eventual destination would be.

The ritual chamber.

As they entered it, Harry instantly analyzed the markings drawn on the floor, walls and ceiling. They were unlike anything he had seen before. The style, structure and even the accent were different from his own clumsy attempts. To behold such a work of majesty was.. humbling. As his nurse dumped him in the middle of the chamber, he felt the cool grip of the crystals halt his curses again. _'Wait, what is she doing? Don't tell me she's about to perform a ritual?'_

Was the woman going to heal him, or do something else? His ambivalence ate at him while his helper calmly prepared the ritual by lighting candles. Harry wanted to ask her so very much what the hell she was up to, but he knew she would deflect his questions. He had learned to keep his mouth shut and instead try to figure out the answers elsewhere. He turned to the ritual symbols around him.

He recognized faint structures that had to do with.. time? Stasis? Immolation? Individually, these elements didn't make sense, but magic wasn't quite logical to begin with and often combined two completely unrelated elements in a new and beautiful effect. But for the woman to have drawn such a complex array must have meant one or more of several things. One, the woman had access to his original captors' research data. Two, the woman and whoever else was in on 'this' had spent decades, perhaps centuries deciphering the countermeasure for his curse. Three, the woman had prepared for the day of his arrival. Did she wait for him during the entire nine centuries that he had been missing, or was she merely a member of an organization that guarded such things?

The lady clapped once, and the ritual chamber darkened. Even the candles gave scant comfort. Harry's discomfort increased. He had too little time to decipher the ritual and its true effects. At this very moment, he was completely at the mercy of his captor. He faintly heard her shuffle around, doing Merlin knew what.

"Fucking.. bitch.. fuck you.. bitch.."

If the girl was offended, she didn't show as she continued to circle around him. Then she walked straight at him with a shiny object in her hand. _'That's my ritual dagger, you goddamn thief!'_ But before he could utter another curse, she plunged the dagger into his chest. Intense pain blossomed between his ribs as the blade sank deeply into his flesh. His mouth tore open in a scream of intense suffering.

When she withdrew the dagger, the runes around them glowed. As the blade arced from his flesh, a solid string of Harry's lifeblood followed its path. The woman held her dagger out, seemingly examining the string of blood, before using her other hand to grasp it and pull it apart.

Something black and malevolent separated from the red. The girl tugged at it, using more of her strength while chanting some verses of a long-dead language that Harry didn't recognize. He could only scream as his magical core seemed to crush each time the girl tugged at the blackened string that tried to stay within his blood.

Eventually, she reached a crescendo in her radiant song that broke the shadow's resolve. When she tugged at it again, it slipped loose with a loud magical bang that temporary deafened them both. The blood that had been suspended by the dagger fell onto his chest, splattering Harry with his own lifeblood. The girl spent some time getting rid of the black string before turning her attentions to him. With soothing, complex motions, she activated a different array of the ritual, mending his body, healing his wounds, and caressing his over-strained magical core.

As the lady continued to wrap up the ritual, Harry was quick to realize he could not feel that ever-present drain within his body anymore. His curses.. that black string.. she pulled it out of his body and destroyed it. She.. she did something even he thought he wasn't sure he could perform. Without the girl, he would never had enough time to develop a cure for his curses. Creating such a complex array from scratch would have taken him months at least, and that was assuming he had the right books. If his original captors used something entirely new though.. he'd be screwed.

The ritual finally ended as the stab wound in his chest healed over. Harry took a moment to marvel at the woman's prowess. She had performed a lot of magic without a wand. All the animosity he had in the woman bled away as he lifted his cracking lips in a smile.

"Thank.. you.."

"You're welcome." She whispered gently, then held her palm over his forehead. She slowly dragged it down his face, lowering eyelids and putting him into sleep.

* * *

When he next came to, he realized his body felt.. different. Harry felt stronger, more capable, more rejuvenated. His unobstructed magical core sang in pleasure as it filled his body with his life energy. Pure, unadulterated power swelled within him as he felt his capability to perform magic return to him. Once more, he was _powerful_.

To test his powers out, he tried to wandlessly levitate a chair. The sound of crushing as the furniture smashed apart caused him to cease his experimentation. _'I've got too much power and not nearly enough control. I need my Elder Wand to cast spells properly.'_

Unfortunately, the girl had seen fit to strip him of that particular instrument. His body was completely bare save for a simple outfit he had stashed in his drawers many centuries ago.

Before his mind could wander in other areas, the girl returned again.

"Are you feeling well, Harry?"

"Yeah.. but.. why..?"

"Hmm." The drawled out as she inspected his body. "At least you're not calling me a bitch anymore."

"It's your own fault.. _bitch_.. for not telling me anything."

She didn't deign to respond, and simply finished up her inspection. "You've completely recovered. At this very moment, it looks like you're at the peak of your power."

"Good. Now let me get out of here." _'So I can rape you and beat the answers out of you.'_

"I don't think so, Harry. There's one more thing that I have to do before I can let you go."

"What is it?"

The brunette's coy smile turned into a full-blown grin. "Nothing _too_ bad, I assure you."

She slowly lowered her head at him. The grin on her face suggested many things, and for a small moment he could feel his lower body heating up. The glint in her eyes only raised his anticipation. Her lips parted, causing him to open his own mouth in unison. She went lower and lower until…

Her head rapidly pulled back and her palm slammed in his face, planting some unknown but excruciatingly painful device onto his eye socket. Before the stricken boy could spring up and blast her with an uncontrolled wave of magic, the woman placed another metallic device on his chest that instantly made him lose all his strength, leaving him helpless and paralyzed both physically and magically.

"Wh.. hw.."

The boy then felt a whirl of excruciating pain come out of his left eye as the noisy mechanical device spread out metallic tendrils and went all the way around his eye, cutting flesh in the process and digging deeper into his socket. As he felt a tiny blade saw through his eye stalk, he saw nothing but bloody agony.

With a grin of savage glee, the woman ripped the device from his eye socket, separating Harry from one of his sensory organs. Harry continued to howl in his mind, though the stunning device on his chest prevented him from uttering any coherent sounds, while waves of nEMP muffled any magic spells. His jerking and twitching body lay completely helpless before the grinning hellcat, who tinkered with the device before letting his eyeball drop in some sort of high-tech liquid container. She slowly sealed the container before turning her attention back to the suffering boy.

"You look _awful_. Let me fix that up for you."

And then, as if she had never had the intention to harm him, she methodically took care of the gaping wound in his face. She pulled out some potions from his medical cabinet and dripped some drops in his eye cavity. Her skillful treatment slowly dulled the pain and stopped the bleeding. She finished up by bandaging up his empty socket.

Somehow, Harry found the strength to utter one, single word.

"..Wh..Why..?.."

She didn't completely push away his question this time. Lowering her head to his own, she stared intensely at Harry's remaining green orb. The woman then lowered further and brushed her lips against his cheek, kissing it. "Because I love you, Harry."

The girl retreated, then came back with another potion. She forced open his paralyzed mouth and poured its contents into his unwilling throat. Her hands kneaded his neck, allowing Harry to swallow the liquid without choking himself. She then pulled back to pack up her things, leaving only the device on his chest that restrained his body and magic.

As Harry felt drowsiness well up inside of him, the brown-haired girl turned to him for one last time. "We'll see each other again. I'm sure of it. Stay strong, and never give up."

Her footsteps rang away as the exhausted wizard finally succumbed to the sleep that the girl had somehow induced in him.

He didn't dream that night.

After he woke up sometime later, he found that the device on his chest had stopped working. He immediately lifted it up and threw it on the other side of the room.

"Urggh…"

Harry felt like crap. His empty eye socket constantly throbbed, and he couldn't just itch the irritation away. He brushed his bandages for a long time as he started to assess his condition.

His body was still in one piece, thank Merlin. Besides his missing eye, the girl hadn't mutilated any other part of his flesh. His remaining eye was sharp as ever, and all his limbs responded properly.

He then turned his senses inward and checked his magical state. He then found one, extremely uncomfortable fact.

His magical core had been diminished. He felt around and explored his magical pathways to find that he now held only half of what he should have possessed.

Somehow, through a method completely unknown to him, the blasted woman managed to extract half of his magic along with half of his vision. That backstabber literally stole half of his life.

"You.. fucking.. _bitch!_ Give me back my MAGIC!"

His scream reverberated beyond the infirmary and reached every part of his sanctuary. Sadly for him, the thief was long gone, taking his eye and his magic with her. When Harry finally spent his rage, he stared listlessly at the plain stone ceiling of the infirmary, and despaired.

Tears formed in his remaining healthy eye as Harry completely broke down. "Why does this always happen to me? Why can't people just _leave_ me alone!"

The broken wizard sobbed for an hour before letting himself surrender to the sleep that crept up to him. This time, he embraced the oblivion with welcoming arms. Anything to get away from reality.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	38. Part II: The Revelation - Repost

March 31, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_**Part II: The Escalating Storm**_

_The Revelation_

* * *

Defeat. Harry felt nothing more than total defeat. Not even his imprisonment in that unbreakable blue crystal made him feel so outplayed. Only Selner's loss came close to the heavy weight of defeat that hovered over his shoulders. Despite his apparant immortality and unique magic, they brought no advantage to the level of battle that was fought in this age. To think that a small electronic device placed on his chest could render him completely helpless to the ministrations of that nameless bitch made him realize how hopelessly the muggle world surpassed the magical world.

He knew then, after this harsh and brutal lesson, that he couldn't rely solely on his magic to carry himself forward. Technology held too many advantages that he couldn't afford to ignore any longer, especially since the other side is willing to use both magic and machines to accomplish their goals. In order to pursue the thief and take back what was his, he needed to become stronger and fuse both magic and technology to an extent that the bitch could not keep up. He would have to become the most modern wizard this age has seen. Only then, he thought, was he deserving of his full righteous power.

The first thing he did when he next woke up was to quarantine the device that stunned him and inspect every inch of his sanctuary for any unforeseen surprises. In some places the woman had left her mark, particularly in his bedroom. Sadly she was careful enough not to leave a trace, not even a single speck of hair. He then inspected all of his rooms and vaults for anything missing. While he couldn't remember the extent of his full possessions, it seemed that a few exceptions aside, the girl had not robbed him blind. He still had his magical artifacts, his potions and potion ingredients (those that withstood the test of time) and most importantly, his books. The loss of his ritual dagger and a few other inconsequential trinkets wasn't that much of a blow.

'_Thank Merlin the girl didn't decide to burn or destroy all my possessions.'_ Without them he'd be severely limited in the magic he was be able to perform. Harry specialized in combat magic – to accomplish different effects he needed to reference the obscure books he had hoarded in his previous lifetime.

One such situation came about immediately. His first and foremost priority was to find a way to regain his magic. He spent days browsing through different books, most of them dark, only to come up with nothing. The act of stealing another person's magic was not that unfamiliar in ancient magical circles, but the books didn't describe how a robbed person could regain his full potential without stealing it back from the thief. And that was clearly impossible, seeing how well the bitch swept her tracks.

After realizing the futility of his current course, he turned his attention to his missing eye. How a person could steal half of his magic by plucking out his eye, he didn't know. He carefully unwrapped the bandages from his eye socket, only to be met with a gruesome sight. While he did have some magical eyeballs hanging around, he wasn't confident enough to attempt to heal himself. Other priorities came first.

'_The bitch's presence in my sanctuary already proves that this place isn't as safe as I thought.'_

But how did she manage to gain access to this hideout in the first place? It was extremely well hidden and nowhere did he leave a clue of its location. And even if someone came at the doorstep, they would have never been able to enter due to the extensive wards that guarded this place.

'_Did they break the enchantment with nEMP? No, the wards are all still intact. Did they tunnel through from another direction? I can't find any breaches. How then?'_

Only someone of his blood should be able to enter his sanctuary. His wife, due to her marital connection to him, might have been able to enter, and so would any of their children, but sadly none of them survived. Harry spent half a day going through the diagnostics of his wards, desperately trying to figure out how the hell the bitch circumvented his formidable defenses. Knowing whether she avoided tripping her wards or fooled them into believing she was Harry would go a long way into explaining the cause.

What he found out made his blood leave his face. _'It.. it can't be!'_

The news floored him. Numbly he stepped away from the pristine warded door and shuffled to his library. He picked up one large scroll from a shelve of scrolls, laid it out on the floor, and rolled it open.

The names that came out just didn't end. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (which superseded his less nobler heritage as a Potter) revealed that he had an _enormous_ amount of illegitimate offspring. Of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of witches he raped during his rampage in the twenty-first century, a handful of them miraculously survived his tender ministrations. The scroll even noted a few muggle women in the list! _'But I was sure to stay away from their pussy!'_

Nimea Zabini, Gordon Greengrass, Vivia Edgecombe, the list went on and on. All the sons and daughters he had inadvertently fathered in his pursuit for information and pleasure stared back at him in his remaining eye. He even spotted he fathered a baby girl from Malfoy's granddaughter. _'I was pretty sure I strangled that tight blond bitch.'_

What was worse was that the majority of these children continued to live, marry, and have other offspring, deepening Harry's legacy. Even more distressing was the fact that these offspring continued to live long after his destruction of the Wizarding World. Most lived long and prosperous lives, producing even more babies in turn. What effect did his destruction of magic have on his children? How immune were they to the corrosive winds that destroyed every other magical being and object besides his own?

Absently, Harry continued to roll out the family tree, only to run out of room as he reached the other side of the library. He had to bend the scroll in order to continue rolling. On and on it went until he simply became too tired to read any further. Already he noticed he had thousands of descendants in the twenty-fourth century, and if he kept on rolling he'd probably need an entire Quidditch stadium to go through the next century.

A small part of his brain was immensely proud to see his blood had prospered throughout the ages. That caveman instinct was quickly tempered by the fact that millions of latent magicals survived to this day who all shared a single, common ancestor.

And from the unknown intruder's skillful work, a handful of them still retained enough magical knowledge to actually utilize it. He didn't destroy the Wizarding World – he merely replaced it with his own. To think that a bunch of descendants _dared_ to trespass into his most sacred territory and ambush him for his magic was excrutiating. Whoever that girl was, she deserved more than a spanking.

With that thought in mind, he began to wrap up the scroll and seal it in a safe container. It was time for him to pack up his belongings and retreat. He was sure the girl and whatever family she belongs to held a power base here on Earth. Pursuing her immediately would make him fall right into their hands, he was sure. The tired wizard had enough of falling into traps.

First he went into a hidden control room and gave the magical order to destroy all of the magical caches that still survived to this day. None of them contained anything unique, and while it might contain plenty of irreplaceable potions and ingredients, he didn't want to take the risk of falling into another trap by retrieving them. Better to keep his stay on Earth short and focus on his sanctuary.

Thus he spent an entire week cleaning out his library, rooms and vaults. He didn't have nearly enough trunks to fit in all the junk he collected over the years, but with his magic back he created plenty of new containers to stuff the rest of his belongings. While it was regrettable to lose half of his potent magic – turning him from a warmage who could rival Dumbledore to someone with only middling power – the major increase in control was a pleasant side-effect. This aided him in several delicate tasks such as removing wards or lifting fragile objects.

Having equipped his most potent gear on himself while packing away the rest, the wizard took one last look at his emptied sanctuary. It would never provide him with the feeling of safety again, not after he had been brutally robbed of his magic by an intruder. He only spent one more night in order to plan for his departure, but after that he lingered no more. Flipping his wand, he sent out one short incantation that rumbled and collapsed the entire sanctuary. Anyone who visited it from now would encounter only crushed rock.

With a final thought, he focused intensely on his magic and apparated to Stonehenge.

'_Shit, my diminished magic, I forgot!'_

While his weaker core provided him with much more control over his apparition, his range had decreased severely. Apparating half-way around the world took an enormous toll on him that almost made him faint on the spot. Quickly he retrieved his magical tent, and after spending a minute setting up a notice-me-not charm and some other rudimentary wards, he entered the roomy interior and crashed on his bed immediately.

After a solid day of rest, he recovered enough to continue on with his original purpose. Drowsily he packed up his tent before refreshing the myriad of wards and enchantments he had placed on him. He then took out a broom in order to scout his surroundings.

To the south, he could see nothing but a devastated landscape. The forests there had been completely consumed by his Fiendfyre a few months back. It was more interesting to see that Cytosis Agritech was already at work cleaning up the mess and restoring the forest. They appeared not to notice him so he didn't pay them any further heed. Instead, he turned east, towards the place which used to house the town of Amesbury. He didn't know or care for its current name, only for the fact that it housed plenty of people.

'_Perfect. Time for some payback on that bitch.'_

He flew towards the city until he hovered directly over it. This town at least looked livelier than the one he had previously burned. The structure all carried the logo of a different corporation, one which evidently had more taste in variety. Different colored cubical structures dotted the landscape, which in unison might make for an interesting abstract painting.

'_Too bad I'm about to pour bleach onto this artwork.'_

His hand reached into a very special container and pulled out a foul-looking potion. A heavy aura of foreboding emanated from the ripened oil-like substance. Just holding it in his hand made Harry shiver a little. But that was exactly why he chose this potion. Carefully, after making sure he was upwind, he released the stopper and turned the container over, pouring its heavy liquid down on the streets of the town.

The potion was originally a half-finished work of a deranged Death Eater who managed to survive the purges after Voldemort's fall. The pureblood potions master hated muggles to such a terrible degree that he was willing to wipe them all out. Halfway through his research he abandoned the project, since other wizards would easily be able to develop a cure for the magical plague.

That made the potion useful to Harry. This single act of infecting the muggles with a disease that could not be cured through normal means was both his revenge and a test. The group of magicians who retained a measure of knowledge about magic should be able to recognize the symptoms of the plague and sense it was magical in nature. Millions, perhaps billions would die before they could formulate a cure, which sated Harry's revenge for the theft of his magic. Then, the plague would either be cured, and prove to Harry that a magical group existed and that they were based on Earth, or the plague would run its course and devastate the entire planet and perhaps spread out to Earth's many colonies. Either way, he wouldn't shed any tears for the innocents that would die. Harry had long rid himself of his foolish saving people thing.

After completing his handiwork, he consulted his datapad and flew towards the nearest spaceport. It was time to leave this miserable planet.

* * *

Selner felt strained by the freedom her husband gave her. After a disastrous spell being treated for her 'Stockholm Syndrome' that only made her despise James more, he finally relented and abandoned that approach. Instead, he brought her home to their expansive mansion in the Exploration Society sponsored territory on Callisto and made it into her cage. Whenever James went away for work, she'd be left with a pair of capable bodyguards. Even now she could feel their stares as she read up on her old textbooks.

"You're free to leave and do something productive." Lilliane taunted at her guards. "Like visit the toilet, or sniff the underside of our hovercars."

As usual, his guards didn't respond. As far as she was concerned, they were robots in all but name. They were here to make sure she didn't sneak off and seek out her 'lover', never mind that she had divorced James. Somehow the resourceful prat had nullified the divorce papers she sent over and arranged it so that they were still officially married. Any attempt to push through with the separation only made him angrier. That was exactly why she loved to poke her husband with talk of divorce every week.

Lily sighed and looked at her book on the energies that the human bodies produced. She had nothing else to do but study. James had renovated the mansion and removed every possible connection to the outside world. Lily couldn't obtain any news on what was happening in the outside world, let alone send a message. Her husband was pretty paranoid that she would attempt to contact Captain Harry, and in truth, his paranoid was justified. Her devotion to Harry hadn't lessened one single bit.

James tried hard to force away her infatuation for that boy. He'd treat her gently, take her out to dinner (making sure to visit only quiet places with no possible way to contact others), and generally woo her like he did in their college days. How she was even dumb enough to fall for this oaf was a mystery to her. And while some of the things he did made her belly warm, it wasn't enough to relight the spark that existed between them. That flame had died out long before Selner even set out for the expedition in the Jupiter Outback.

Frustrated to see her holding stubbornly to Captain Harry, James tried a different approach. He beat it out of her by manhandling her in bed. While he claimed to be much better in bed than Harry, the brute failed miserably. In order to control her flailing, he resorted to restraining her, then outright raping her defenseless body. The desperation within him made his lovemaking crude at best and painful at worst.

James' package was bigger and much more finely shaped. It had to be, as the sub-director of the Callistoan branch of the Exploration Society came from a high lineage of executives who received the finest genetic treatment. Subsequent bodymorphing worth millions in credits only refined his physique.

Too bad he used his huge package to run over her and flatten her insides with its mass. While there was a lot of truth to the saying 'the bigger the better', she still preferred Harry's more reasonably-sized organ. Its elegant shape had a beauty in itself, as its form was as nature had intended.

"God, Lily, why won't you just enjoy it!" He would say to her after he spent himself in her orifices. "You said you liked it rough from that criminal."

Did she slip that out? _'Oh, I remember. It was to egg James on.'_ In truth, what she liked the most about making love to Harry was that it involved actual love. Sure, he might not be as big, or as rough as James, but every single time they fucked it was out of love. Even when Harry tormented her out of wickedness, there had always been an underlying current of emotion. He always made it clear, whether from his words or his actions, that he loved her. Lily couldn't help but love him back. That was the strongest sex she had ever experienced.

Her oafish husband would never understand. He only focused on the material side to their relationship. He wanted a trophy wife, an airhead who crowned his accomplishments in his pampered life. He never valued her as an individual or as a researcher. To him, she was just a baby-making machine.

'_Too bad for him that I know enough about my body to kill any embryos I conceive with him. I'll never bear James' child.'_

She huffed and turned her head away. Selner tried to fall asleep, which was difficult seeing as James dozed off while pressing his entire weight on her body. He didn't even have the decency to release her bonds.

"Pig."

* * *

The Headol spaceport was a commercial establishment owned and managed by Percival Ports (A wholly owned subsidiary of Percival Integrated). It was located well within the domain of the capital city of Brittaan, which made travelling difficult for Harry. He resorted to taking the bus in order to limit the possibility of someone detecting a man flying in the air with nothing but a broomstick. The ride was comfortable, and the chauffeur accepted his universal credits without a fuss.

When he reached the port, his next challenge would be to reach one of the massive military bases that loomed over Earth. Such stations were heavily guarded, but offered access to the control room which regulated Earth's Gravitic Catapult. While he might be able to hijack a fast ship and simply flee into space, it took months or years to reach the next planet. Harry didn't nearly have enough patience to wait that long. He was anxious to reunite with his ship.

The spaceport offered many flights to Luna or one of Earth's many colonies, but only a handful of flights left for the military stations each week. News of the plague he released over the town he now knew as Ambur had quickly spread throughout the entire country, causing a frantic rush for flights out of Brittaan. Luckily, Harry didn't intend to board one of the many overcrowded passenger craft. At least Percival's military hadn't started evacuating its troops yet, leaving him with plenty of space.

With no limits to his magical expenditure, the wizard was free to choose from several different methods to sneak aboard a military transport. In the end, he decided to opt out of glamouring himself as Percival officer, and just use his invisibility cloak while dosing himself heavily with notice-me-nots and other hiding charms and sit at an unoccupied seat. This time he made sure to cast charms that hid his heat and sound emissions.

Harry prepared himself for a very rough ascent and be subjected to the incredible g-forces those muggle astronauts felt back in the twenty-first century. Instead, he sat surprised as the ride up went completely smooth. Even though the shuttle was flying straight up, the craft's local gravity made it feel as if he was still sitting upright. It was a pleasant surprise.

With nothing to worry about, the boy enjoyed the short propaganda film on the way up. Too bad the automatic waiter didn't stop by his seat to pass him whatever passed as popcorn in this age.

When the pilot announced that they reached the _Lohengrin_, Harry quietly followed the rest of the officers out into the docks that granted access to the rest of the massive station. He sweated a little bit when he found the exit guarded by a security port that featured a combination of laser, gravity, air pressure and other hidden sensors along with a bio-metric scanner that required a blood sample, an iris scan and a voice sample to verify an officer's identity.

Even with the charms and wards he piled up onto his body, there was no way he could overcome all of them. So he did the next best thing: apparate to the other end of the security hall. One advantage of his weakened core was that he leaked much less excess magical energy from his apparition, from a loud bang to a quiet pop. The sound he made still tripped up the station's tight security sensors, but the security forces that came to investigate quickly dismissed it as a false alarm. Harry of course had long sneaked away.

A bit of exploring quickly revealed an elaborate map, which helpfully pointed out the control room for the Gravitic Catapult. As he made his way to his destination, he reviewed what he knew about them. Earth's Gravitic Catapult was not an asset owned by a single corporation, but was rather collectively owned by all the major corporations. Since it never saw much use other than the occasional expedition to the inner asteroid belt, no one really cared a lot about it. Every major corporation's main space station held a control room which all granted access to the operation of the Gravitic Catapult.

After bypassing several more security measures, he waited in the corridor just outside the hatch leading into the control room. Soon enough, the shift changed, letting the door open for just a few seconds for Harry to catch a good glimpse inside. He quietly apparated as the new technicians were busy logging in to the system.

'_Now what.'_

Harry was never any good with mind magics, but he had a suspicion his enhanced control over his more manageable magical core might mitigate his weakness. Even then, he didn't have the confidence to cast the more refined charms or hexes. So with a deep breath, he gathered all of his hate against the woman who stole his eye and his motivation to see her broken down and let loose his spell.

"_**Imperio.**_"

The sloppy, unevenly applied curse barely latched on to the three technicians and their supervising lieutenant. Barely a second after his casting he could already see how it started to degrade the minds of his muggle victims. Yet they didn't shrug off the effects, which meant Harry actually succeeded in casting the Unforgivable he had the most trouble with. Sure, his amateurish result might break down within a week, making it unsuitable for long-term infiltration, but he only needed a day at most to complete his getaway.

"What is your name, young man?"

"Lieutenant Nestor Granville, sir!"

The military response made Harry chuckle. "Then as your commanding officer, I order you this…"

* * *

Felicity (Lieutenant Felicity now) made her way to the officer's mess and retrieved a plate of Venusian delicacies. "Look's good, chef!"

"It's fresh as well, for once."

"Like your arse, chef!"

A round of chuckles went throughout the compartment. Felicity looked around and joined the only occupied table. She sat next to Menzies, who as usual didn't even bother to look up at her. _'I swear the guy's a dunce.'_

The perky blond sighed a little. Ever since her promotion to officer country she lost a bit of magic with her two best friends. Gabriel and Hernandez couldn't really quite stomach treating her like a friend when she was also their boss, in a way. Even if she insisted that she would still treat them the same, they would have none of it. _'Stupid boys and their stupid customs.'_

Instead, she turned to the latest addition into their crew, a mousy girl with short-cropped black hair. "So Kenzie, how are you holding up now that you know magic exists?"

The shy girl drew a little inward. "I'm not sure.. the house-elves are rather nice. I'm just.. I'm just a little scared of the captain. Does he really rape every woman on the ship?"

"Of course not! That's nonsense. I've been with him for a year and he hadn't laid a finger on me. The only one in the crew he fucked was Dr. Selner."

"Dr. who?"

"Oh, just some slutty medical doctor who sold her body to him for favors. She's gone now, it's a long story."

"Oh.."

The conversation fell into a lull and everyone focused on their food. Eventually Menzies looked up and asked, "Do you think you are able to fit in with the others?"

"I don't have any choice." Kenzie muttered dejectedly. "The Venusian navy hates my guts and no one else wants to take me on board except you guys."

Felicity placed a soothing hand on Kenzie's trembling hand. "It's not your fault that the shuttle you directed had malfunctioned and crashed against the hull of a space station. If anything, it's the pilot's fault for blindly following his instructions."

"But it's the communications operator to verify the validity of all outgoing messages!"

"Quiet now. What's done in the past is done. You'll make a fine lieutenant on board this ship. Our commander has the same specialization of yours – why don't you ask her to tutor you?"

"A-Ask Commander Claris? She'll eat me alive!"

"Oh don't believe all the stories."

"But she's torturing a woman in the brig! I've seen the vids myself!"

"That was because the woman deserved it." Felicity held Kenzie's eyes. "Kenzie, you're a lieutenant now, not just an ensign in your old fleet. Be proud of your rank, and do the best you can to serve us. Claris may look tough, but she's never unfair. Except for one exception."

"And that is..?"

"Have the hots for the captain."

"Oh, that will _never_ be a problem, lieutenant." Kenzie replied as she smiled for the first time. "Although, when will I receive this Mark that everyone is talking about?"

"When the captain returns, and don't sound so eager girl. A lot of crewmen envy you for your freedom."

"Freedom also has a price, you know."

* * *

Halfway back to the docking bay, the station went into full alert. It seemed as if they realized something was terribly wrong. _'Damnit, how did I slip up? And do they suspect I tampered with the Gravitic Catapult operators?'_ In any case, it meant his time was running out, and that he needed to go through the Catapult as quickly as possible in order to avoid discovery.

Relying on his memory, he apparated in the middle of the bay and went towards the smallest and sleekest interplanetary vessel that was lined up on the station. The tiny, twenty-five meter courier vessel docked at the furthest section of the bay would have to do. While there were better alternatives, the _Swan_ was the only vessel with an open access port. It appeared that the crew were in the midst of loading sensitive dispatches and parcels.

A pair of Percival marines were keeping a careful watch over the entry hatch while the captain and his helpers loaded material inside. Harry didn't know if his Imperious curse would work through thick battle armor, so he tried a more subtle approach and sneaked past with his invisibility cloak.

'_Phew.'_

The guards didn't notice a thing. Harry quickly explored the cramped ship and found out that only three people were needed to crew the ship: one pilot, one engineer and one environmental tech. The _Swan_ was capable of long-distance interplanetary journeys, so even if he screwed up with the Catapult he could always take the long route.

For now, he quietly waited at the bridge as the crewmen finished loading their cargo. The pilot was efficient and he smoothly undocked from the _Lohengrin_ with the practice born out of experience. That was when Harry struck, Imperiousing the environmental tech, the engineer and finally the pilot himself. In hindsight, he should have Imperioused the crew in the opposite order, since the results became progressively worse as he grew more fatigued. _'The Unforgivable is a powerful curse but it also drains a lot out of me. Shit.'_

"Lieutenant-Commander Oswald, we have received new emergency orders from high command. The _Swan_ is ordered to pass through the Gravitic Catapult to Venus for an immediate delivery of diplomatic dispatches. We are ordered to travel there immediately."

"Yes, sir, understood. Changing course now!"

The pilot's movements jerked a little as he adjusted the settings of the courier. Ordering a man to do something that went against his instincts were always the hardest orders to fulfill. Leaving Earth would definitely pass as a challenge. Harry's immediate future was at stake. He had to leave Earth while making sure there wouldn't be any trails that led back to him. That was why he didn't set his destination to Jupiter straight away. While he held no particular love for Io, he needed their resources to expand his strength and strike back at his enemies. It was better to let a third party such as Venus take the fall if any controversy resulted from his actions.

As the _Swan_ swiftly coasted towards the Gravitic Catapult, Harry focused on the remaining obstacle to his path. An entire cruiser squadron stood guard over the Catapult, making sure no unauthorized ships came close to the valuable machine. Convincing them to let the _Swan_ pass would be his final challenge in leaving Earth. His only advantage was that the fleet belonged to Henkel Defense. He hoped that miscommunication between Henkel and Percival allowed him enough of a window to pass through.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	39. II: Foreign Delights - Repost

March 31, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Foreign Delights_

* * *

A console in the cramped bridge of the _Swan_ started to beep. It was the call that Harry had been waiting for. He turned to the Imperioused pilot of the courier vessel.

"Well Mr. Oswald, are you going to answer that call?"

The pilot nodded and accepted the visual link. The secondary viewscreen shifted to display the call. A stern, uniformed woman wearing a sober Henkel Defense uniform appeared on the screen.

"To the captain of the Percival Defence vessel the _Swan_, this is Commodore Julia Rey of the _Manifest Destiny_. I order you to cease your approach to the Gravitic Catapult and turn around. We have received no word of any ships that have obtained authorization to pass through the Gravitic Catapult."

"Erm.. yes ma'm.. that is.. I have o-orders from.."

"Well? Speak up, lad."

'_Damnit, Oswald's mind already degraded too much. I have to take over.'_ Harry, after checking to make sure he was still invisible, approached the pilot seat and carefully whispered his next words in his ears.

"Ah, our ship has received an emergency d-diplomatic dispatch that we have to deliver to Venus ASAP."

"Hmm.." Commodore Rey turned to face a communications tech on her bridge and sent out a serious of inquiries to him. "My command has not received word from Henkel's CEO of any emergency dispatches. Proper protocol states that I should wait for official encoded authorization from both our company's CEOs before allowing any ship to pass through the Gravitic Catapult."

"B-But.. it's a major crisis! It will take too long to go through the regular channels." Harry then thought of a bright idea to put more urgency in Oswald's plea. "Brittaan is suffering from a major plague that has a 100 percent kill rate. We have to reach Venus and ask for their medical assistance. Please, ma'm, many lives are at stake."

The woman's eyes softened a little. "My sympathies, Mr Oswald. I've heard.. the plague has also started to spread to Weup so I understand if our top management are busy. Yet I cannot abandon protocol and allow any unauthorized vessel access. If you can show any evidence that the CEO or any board member has ordered your current mission, then we can work something out."

'_Tch. This bitch is a hard case.'_ "Oh umm.. I do not have direct access. Let me wire you through to _Lohengrin_'s control room. They know more about it than myself."

Under Harry's direction, Oswald invited an additional participant in the conversation. Lieutenant Granville greeted Commodore Rey smoothly and was much more eloquent in his dealings than Oswald. _'Looks like the first person that I use the Imperius curse on suffers the least from side-effects.'_

"..No ma'm, we do not have official authorization that can be verified by our decoders, but this is a very urgent matter that needs to be resolved quickly! The longer we wait the more of our people will die! And your people will follow next, Commodore Rey."

'_Damn that guy is good.'_ Harry thought as Granville bombarded Rey with different angles of attack. This really made him reconsider the value of the _Imperius_ curse. He had always thought the puppet masters who resorted to the Unforgivable were weak spellcasters who relied on others to do their dirty bidding, but now he gained a new respect for them. To identify valuable targets, extract the most value out of them and make certain that no evidence points back to yourself was much harder, but also much more fulfilling than he had imagined. While his Imperius would never be as good as Lucius Malfoy's version, just a short duration was enough to grant Harry access to the things he needed.

At this very moment, Lieutenant Granville back at the _Lohengrin_ military base successfully managed to overpower Commodore Rey's objections.

"Very well." She finally conceded. "I will allow the _Swan_ to pass through the Gravitic Catapult, but only if I am certain its destination is Venus. Lieutenant-Commander Oswald, you have permission to pass, but I _will_ ask for confirmation of your orders from Percival Integrated. Rey, out."

The lieutenant at the _Lohengrin_'s control room gave them a knowing nod. "Granville, out."

The silence lasted for a few seconds. "Well, that was fun. Let's line up our approach."

"Already in progress, s-sir."

The way his pilot twitched made Harry suspect his victim was suffering from the same spell Professor Quirrell had when he hosted Voldemort's soul. It appeared any straining mind magic would have a destructive effect on someone's psyche. Only with sufficient skill and aptitude could someone limit the repercussions.

'_Maybe I just need more practice?'_

He quickly turned that thought away. Regardless of its usefulness, the Imperius was still an odious curse that rightfully deserved to be called an Unforgivable. While Harry didn't believe for one bit that using any of the Unforgivables corrupted your soul and blackened your heart, relying too much on those magic-intensive spells did more harm than good in the end. Besides, he had been making friends just fine without the Imperius. Having lasting and dependable allies such as Amande and Claris was infinitely more valuable than a temporary minion who died in a matter of weeks.

If the people around Harry started dropping dead left and right, he'd inevitably attract suspicion. And in the age where everything was recorded and nothing could be hidden for long, he'd rather not risk exposure unless he absolutely needed cooperation. The Imperius curse should be his trump card, not his mainstay.

The portal began to grow larger in the viewscreen as they finally came near the incredible device. Earth's Gravitic Catapult looked virtually identical to the one on Io, right down to the color of its coating and the configuration of its rings. And just like the Io Catapult, the Earth one spun up in a familiar pattern while arcing bolts of electricity around its frame. Harry pressed the pilot to deviate from their assigned flight plan and pass through the Catapult quickly before something popped up that would screw up his escape.

Harry was glad to have done so, as the cruiser squadron suddenly jerked into motion. Commodore Rey pressed the _Swan_ with an urgent comm link, but he ignored the request. The Catapult pulled the courier inside its grasp and propelled it away at great speed.

Percival and Henkel would spend the next month launching a thorough investigation of the incident. The only suspects of the case, Granville and his technicians, all died in custody, lending a belief that whoever arranged the proceedings was an unknown corporation that chafed at Earth's isolation to the rest of the Solar System. Certain corporations were targeted, leading to a covert war between the different factions on the planet.

* * *

The transition felt different this time. The feeling of weightlessness and insubstantiality weighed less on Harry's mind, as if the _Swan_ was too weak to ride the higher currents. Reality reasserted itself too quickly for Harry's tastes, leaving him longing for that addictive sensation. He shook himself to get his priorities in order. He had to prepare for his impending arrival to Venus. He had no doubt the arrival of an Earth vessel – even if it was just a courier – would create a huge splash up to the very highest level.

"How long until we arrive at our destination?"

"About ten minutes."

"Only ten? That's fast. The journey from Jupiter to Earth took hours."

"The distance between Venus and Earth is much shorter. All of the terrestrial planets are rather close compared to the gas giants further up the solar system."

'_Merlin, ten minutes isn't nearly enough time to think up a decent lie.'_

"Lieutenant-commander, what is the standard protocol for an unexpected arrival to Venus?"

"As we currently lack an embassy, we will likely be surrounded and treated with suspicion. There is no standard protocol designed for this situation, as it is not expected for any Terran vessel to travel to other planets without instructions."

This presented a pickle for Harry. How the hell could he get away from the ship without being blown to bits by a suspicious navy? Without official paperwork he doubted he could convince the Venusian authorities that the _Swan_ was sent on an official mission. Even his magic didn't have the capability to forge something so elaborate. In addition, he simply couldn't Imperius or otherwise influence the Venusian officials over a long-distance communications link.

'_Hmm… how about..'_ Harry retrieved his datapad and opened the cache of news sites. It contained enough news articles about the rapidly expanding plague in Brittaan. Perhaps the story he used to slip past Commander Rey could also be used to fool the Venusians. It sounded plausible. With his decision made, he passed on his instructions to the pilot, hoping that he had enough brain cells left to negotiate on his behalf.

"Transition ends in one minute."

The half-recovered wizard prepared himself. He checked all his wards and updated his charms before slipping back under his invisibility cloak. Pretty soon he felt a subtle shift that translated into the return to the material realm. Almost immediately his ship was bombarded by comm links. The system automatically highlighted the most high-ranking one.

"This is Admiral Adam Brim of the Venusian Home Fleet transmitting to the Terran courier vessel _Swan_ of Percival Defense. What is the purpose of ending your isolation and visiting our planet? Answer within one minute or face the consequences."

Already a battle group moved in to intercept the _Swan_'s lazy path towards the planet of beauty. Oswald quickly responded as he was instructed to. "W-We're not on official business! Our planet is currently suffering from an unknown but highly lethal plague. We r-request your medical expertise in aiding our suffering population."

Wordlessly the pilot transmitted the latest news to the admiral, who quickly perused the headlines. "I see. This is quite a serious situation your planet is suffering from, young man. But disobeying orders and travelling to our planet on your own initiative is a highly reckless move." The admiral hid his grin well. "But I will consider your proposal if you come dock at one of our military stations. We can discuss the details of an aid package at my office."

Likely Admiral Brim was just gunning for the Earthtech incorporated in the _Swan_. Any shred of technology developed from Earth was usually fifty years ahead of the rest of the solar system. Brims greedy eyes could only see the profit his planet would make from dissecting the modern courier and reverse-engineering its secrets.

"You'll also have to be subjected to disease quarantine conditions, of course. We wouldn't want you to transmit your plague to us. So please cease all acceleration and prepare your vessel to be boarded by a hazmat team. Do not resist their instructions. We can never be sure whether you are just here to spread your misery. Brim, out."

Harry cursed softly as the sensors told him that a carrier dispatched a shuttle towards their courier. The _Swan_ wasn't that big of a ship, and if the hazmat team carried sophisticated sensors they'd be able to detect him despite all of his efforts to hide himself. He also had too little time to recover his fatigued magical core, so Imperiusing them was out of the question.

A soft clang reverberated throughout the ship. The shuttle had mated with the _Swan_'s docking hatch. They would soon enter whether he liked it or not. He turned quickly to his brainwashed pilot. "Cooperate with the Venusian authorities and do all you can to prevent my detection."

"Yes sir. If it is possible, perhaps you can hide on the ceiling?"

With nothing better at his disposal, Harry quickly cast a sticking charm on his feet before levitating himself to the roof of the bridge. The hazmat team entered the bridge shortly after and began examining the docile pilot and the rest of the compartment. The hidden wizard watched with bated breath as the lumbering specialists lugged around their bulky equipment and scanned everything in sight. With so much metal between the air and the wearer's skin, Harry wasn't sure any spell could penetrate that much. Luckily, the hazmat team were primarily focused on microbes and toxic chemicals and didn't carry the equipment to detect the wizard's presence.

"No foreign organisms present."

"No chemical irregularities detected."

"This compartment is clear. Move on to the next."

Harry had a choice then. Either he could hide in the _Swan_, or try to sneak aboard the hazmat team's shuttle and make his way to the Venusian Navy's carrier. _'But how will I get to a station then?'_ He figured that the _Swan_ would soon dock at a station anyway, so in the end he stayed.

The admiral sent out a short message after the hazmat team left. "It seems your ship does not appear to contain any harmful substances, but we cannot be sure. Your ship will be towed to a sealed drydock at our military station and be examined in further detail. Follow the flight plan that will be transmitted to you and do not deviate from your path. Brim, out."

Nothing happened during their hour-long journey to the nearest military station. Harry still hovered against the ceiling, ready to repel a squad of ambushing marines or something of the like. Instead, he resorted to scratching the bandages covering his empty eye socket to relieve his boredom. When the pilot finally completed the docking procedure, the wizard left him with a present and went towards the docking hatch. It quickly opened to reveal a team of marines, who stormed in to take the crewmen into custody. Harry sneaked away throughout the fuss and quickly made his way to the exit of the drydock. As soon as he passed through the corridor that led further into the station he sent a powerful pulse of magic towards the _Swan_.

The courier slowly shook, then started to lose its shape as a metal-eating curse gnawed away at its frame. The marines inside moved fast enough to eject the ship's reactor, but were too late to save themselves. The drydock went into red alert and sealed the bay from Harry's eyes.

'_I don't want to give Venus any advantage.'_

Now that he made it into the station proper, his next task was to find out where the _Immortal Marauder_ was located. His original orders before he set out to Earth instructed Claris to head to Venus and do whatever odds and ends the Ioan embassy requests them to do in order to earn some spare cash. If Harry didn't return in two years, she would be free to do with the ship as she wished.

This meant that there was a high likelihood that the _Immortal Marauder_ was not currently docked at any station, but out in space earning credits. Harry went to find a quiet spot before opening his datapad. It automatically connected to the local nets. He visited the port authority site and searched the public listings for his ship.

His cruiser had made it to Venus, and docked at the Amora commercial station for two weeks until heading out. No reason was given for the departure, but Harry figured Claris went out to perform some errand. He was slightly worried that she might send the cruiser on a combat mission. Without any enchantments and only half at crew capacity, the _Marauder_ was in no shape for an adventure.

'_I did give her permission to hire new crew among the locals… but without the Mark she can't guarantee their loyalty or silence.'_

Without any way to reach her, Harry couldn't do anything about it but wait for her return. He stowed away his datapad, and after making absolutely sure no one observed him, changed his battle clothes into a passable civilian vacsuit. He then disarmed all of the charms that hid him from the world. There was no need to hide himself anymore now that he was in a legitimate territory. So without a care in the world, he took the transit to the nearest docking terminal and calmly paid for a flight to Amora Station.

The security scanned his body and his ID. While they took an awful lot of time with his clothes, he made absolutely sure they didn't detect the shrunken magical trunks he hid around his person. They eventually cleared the wizard through and led him to a first class seat at the front of the transit shuttle.

Frowning, Harry looked awkwardly at the luxurious finishes of his seat. _'That's strange, I ordered the cheapest ticket for my flight. Why did they put me in first class?'_

Not wanting to be arrested for stealing a seat, he raised his hand and called one of the stewardesses. "Ma'm? Am I in the right seat? I booked for second class."

The pretty attendant smiled politely, then bowed low, much to Harry's surprise. "My apologies, Lord Antares. Our systems has automatically transferred you to a seat that is much more befitting of your distinguished nature. Cupid Spaceways wishes you to enjoy a pleasant flight."

In other words, they were bribing him with a plush seat in the hope he invested in them or something. Oh well, as long as he didn't pay have to pay extra. _'I keep forgetting that I'm not a fugitive anymore. In this world, I'm a man of status._' That reminded him to check his accounts and asset statements. Six months was a long time and he had no idea what Amande did with his credits and how successful his new corporation had been. He hoped Captain Rysa put his house-elves to good use.

His Frontier Bank account didn't show much change except for a few million less. He pulled up the list of expenditures and found out Amande had been treating herself again. _'I really need to have a word with her when I get back.'_ Harry then flicked over to the latest quarterly report of his corporation's finances.

His eyes bulged as he noticed how Firestorm Solutions doubled in value. Of the original thirty-or-so million credits he invested, the company had made an additional twenty-seven million in profits, though Rysa reinvested most of it back into the repair business in order to expand. He looked over the recent acquisitions and found there was nothing wrong in moving to a larger facility and purchasing more machinery.

Of course he had to hire an independent auditor to check whether the statements held any truth. He didn't trust the independent-minded captain to work completely in his interest.

Just then, a trio of young adults in uniform took the rest of the seats in his row. One of them, a young redhead with adorable freckles, enthusiastically greeted him. "Hiya! Interesting wound you have there. Are you on leave as well? Or did the military discharge due to your injury?"

"I'm not a Venusian, sorry, and I prefer not to talk about my missing eye."

She frowned a little. "You're a foreigner? But you look like a cadet, just like us!"

"If he's a cadet then we would have recognized him, Joyce." One of the young men said. "Hey, I'm Col, he's Valentio, and you've already met Joyce."

"Harry."

"Just Harry?" Joyce poked his chest. "You're riding on a first-class seat. There's no way you're 'just Harry'."

"I could say the same to you."

"He has a point." Valentio, a rather handsome raven-haired man replied. "Hey, you look like an alright guy, do you want to go out with us while we tour Amora Station?"

"Val! He's a stranger!"

"He looks our age." He said, eyeing Harry critically, not aware of Harry's true origins. "So what do you say, Harry? Are you up for some fun?"

Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, and he did planned to spend the time exploring the sights that Venus offered. Only his sudden suspicions made him pause. Were these cadets sent to spy on him?

'_It's not like they can do any harm, I suppose.'_ Harry nodded. "Sure thing."

"Great, I'll show you all the best places!"

* * *

For once, Harry didn't feel like he was in danger or being taken advantage of. Regaining the full use of his magic – even if his potential had halved – put him at an ease he hadn't enjoyed for a year. Secure in the knowledge that he could defend himself, he cut himself loose and tried to fit in with the cadets.

"How long have you been on Venus? Have you ever visited before?"

"Barely a day. And no, this is my first time."

"That short? You haven't seen anything yet!"

"You should go planetside after this, it's an experience you won't forget. We've got the _best_ resorts."

"What's it like down under?"

The trio filled him in as they left the terminal and walked towards their first destination. Apparently Venus was famed for its tropical resorts. Before humans colonized the planet, it suffered from a severe greenhouse gas effect that made the surface of the planet scorching hot. As humanity spread among the stars, some ambitious investors terraformed the planet. Early attempts only managed to clean up its atmosphere to reduce the influx of heat and make it breathable to human life, but later advances in technology provided it with a magnetic field and a faster rotation that made unprotected human habitation possible.

The Venusians introduced many genetically modified variants of plant and animal species imported from Earth. They were quite famed for their biological prowess actually. While the areas around the equator were too hot for permanent settlements, the more temperate regions features lush tropical forests and exciting marine life. Every human alive agreed that Venus was _the_ ultimate holiday destination, sort of like the Caribbean of the solar system.

"We're here, Harry!" Joyce tugged at his hand as she pointed at the sign in front of a large complex.

"Chester's Zero-G Arcade?"

"Ever played any Zero-G games or sports?"

"I haven't had the pleasure."

"Well then." Col grinned impishly. "You're in for a treat."

The game they played vaguely reminded him of Quidditch, which was the only reason why he wasn't smashed. He and the cadets changed into a suit with a weak gravitic jet pack and were then let loose in a tennis court-sized arena where there was absolutely no gravity. It was quite a pleasure for Harry to simply 'swim' in the air and let his jet pack take him where he wished. The cadets quickly roped them in their game however.

The best way he could describe the game was that it resembled dodge ball The goal was to score the most points by possessing the ball and throwing it against specially marked areas of the arena. However, at any time you could eliminate an opponent by hitting him with the ball as long as he didn't catch it. This set of rules produced an hour of intense exercise and fun for the wizard as everyone flew unpredictably due to the sluggishness of their gravitic jet pack Sometimes everyone clumped together and fought for the ball, producing some intense physical contact that left some slight bruises. Harry performed quite decently, but he just couldn't match up to the more experienced cadets who trained intensively under zero-g conditions. His missing eye also crippled his depth perception.

Eventually the game was called in favor of Col, and everyone showered and changed back to their regular clothing.

"What's next?"

"Well.. how about sampling the local cuisine? Some of our dishes are quite adventurous and not for the faint of heart.. do you have the guts to try?"

Having sampled plenty of weirdness already, Harry wasn't too keen, but somehow the cadets roped him along despite his objections. They entered a tiki-like establishment and seated themselves at a table for four.

"What are your orders, sirs?"

"Give us the house special!"

It turned out that the Venusian delicacy was beyond his wildest dreams. Besides the drinks, appetizers and soup, the waiters hauled a _living_ animal to their table. The poor, lamb-like creature mahaha'd in pitiful agony as it struggled to get loose from its bonds.

"The hell? Are we roasting it over a fire or something?"

"Who said anything about cooking it?" Joyce smiled impishly as she picked up a particularly wicked knife and tore right into the poor animal's flesh. "We Venusians like our meat RAW!"

Strangely enough, the wound didn't spill out a spray of blood. With a sense of morbid fascination, he watched as the female cadet cut a slice of tendon and ripped it out from the suffering animal's insides. Then, without any prompt, she stuffed it in her mouth. "Hmmm… yummy! Although it could use a bit more seasoning."

As Joyce sprayed some hot spices in the wound she had opened, her two colleagues also dug into the animal's flank. Col poked an eyeball with his fork while Valentio went straight for the liver. Harry honestly felt like vomiting.

"Relax." Col said as he savored the eyeball. "Everyone feels sick the first time they enjoy a Venusian delicacy. You'll change your mind soon enough when you have your first taste."

Frankly, the wizard was too horrified to pick up his utensils, and he had seen some nasty shit in his lifetime. Joyce offered a piece of dripping muscle to him. "Come on. Eat. It's not polite to refuse."

Perhaps he could lie about being vegetarian?

"Oh, and don't think of telling us you're a vegetarian. That's what all first-timers say."

As Harry opened his mouth to deny her accusation, the girl stuffed the meat in his mouth.

Surprisingly, he didn't spit it out immediately.

'_This is.. this is good!'_ An explosion of taste engulfed his mouth. The raw piece of meat tasted unlike anything he had expected. Even the juicy blood that spurted out as he chewed the elastic flesh tasted like a finely aged wine. He easily swallowed the piece, feeling it settle comfortably in his stomach.

"Wha.. why does it taste so _good_?"

"Our livestock is genetically modified for immediate consumption."

It turned out a few hundred years ago, some biocorporations were a little bit too enthusiastic in tweaking the taste of their products. Some crazy cannibal eventually found out that particularly modified animals tasted better raw than cooked, and a new fad had surged. The biocorporations were eager to tap into this new market and modified the genes even further in order to optimize their animals for 'immediate' consumption. Any animal that was cut into would not immediately leak blood, go into convulsions, or die immediately. They were bred to take a lot of punishment. Over time, the Venusians didn't care so much about the rawness of the flesh but the fact that the animal would still be conscious and alive when they consumed it. The story sickened Harry a little, but despite his best efforts he couldn't stop munching on the lamb's addictive flesh.

"God.. that felt.. both awful and great."

A hand slapped Harry's shoulder. "I envy you. You still get to enjoy the magic. For us, this is normal. We get served mini-chickens in the mess hall of the academy every three days."

The thought of consuming live animals for the rest of his life filled him with both dread and longing. He had never tasted meat as exquisite as the lamb, but if he had to consume it while it was still mewing pitifully he'd rather pass.

He spent the rest of the night being dragged along as the cadets visited a casino before heading out to party at a small local nightclub where a lot of military types frequented. It was the only place on the station that let in people in uniform.

Frankly, Harry didn't really feel comfortable among the crowd. He wasn't military. He didn't share their mindset, their culture, and their love for dance and music. Heck he wasn't even a partying person to begin with. After a slip too many drinks he sobered up and went to the dance floor to say goodbyes.

"I'm leaving."

"WHAT? SPEAK LOUDER! WWOOOHOOO!"

"I SAID I'M LEAVING!"

"HAVE FUN MATE, AND SEE YA AROUND!"

The trio slapped him on the back before turning back to.. whatever they were doing. Harry cleared his head and ordered a glass of water from the bar before sauntering out. As he managed to call a taxi and order it to drive to a decent hotel, he smiled a little as he thought back on his day. Hanging out with the student cadets gave him a taste of the 'normal' life.

'_A life I never had.'_

If he could sacrifice all his power and magic for the chance to lead a normal life, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He had never wanted to become the scourge of the Wizarding World or rampage Earth twice. If others just left him in peace he didn't need to resort to such extremes. _'Yeah right. One thing's for sure, Fate has it in for me. From my very birth it haunted me. Even nine centuries from now, it still hasn't let me go.'_

As he turned into something more comfortable than a vacsuit with blinking lights and slipped in his soft double bed, he listed his main challenges ahead. His top priority was to regain the stolen half of his magic that his unruly descendant was doing Merlin knows what. But in order to track and defeat her and whatever organization she was a member of, he needed to accumulate more power and experience. His fumbling about on Earth showed that corporations could wipe him out with a single press of a button if they were aware of the threat the wizard posed. With no idea where she went and how much backing the thief had, Harry felt not above retreating from a fruitless chase.

'_Know your enemy and know yourself.'_

In his long war against the Wizarding World, Harry had spent at least some time reading up on muggle strategy. They all stressed the importance of intelligence. At the moment, the woman knew everything about her, from how to sneak into his sanctuary, disarm his suspicions, and neutralize his magic. The wizard in turn knew distressingly little about her. To blindly chase after her on a hostile and a very capable Earth would be the height of foolishness, never mind that the woman probably had a lot of traps lying in wait.

One of the major downfalls of the great warrior wizards and witches of his age was that they were too hung up on magical duels. Voldemort had the right idea by fighting within the shadows, only striking when he insured when he had an advantage, and avoiding conflict when the risks were too high. Harry actually killed a substantial portion of his opposition in their sleep by staking their houses, storming through in the dead of night and slaying them before they could shake away their drowsiness.

This was no different. Harry could wait. After all, he was literally unaging, so he had all the time in the universe. There were many preparations to do. He'd have to find out the extent of the power his descendants had at their disposal. His power base also needed to expand in order to grant him access to the resources needed to defeat his rebellious offspring.

Brushing the bandages over his empty socket, he thought on how to regain enough strength to duel another magic user. The thief appeared not to be able to use any wand magic, but now that she had a portion of his potential, that could easily change. He needed to regain his vision, become stronger or at least develop counter-measures against the thief's admittedly effective electronic tools.

'_Damnit Claris.. when will you return?'_

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	40. II: The Return - Repost

April 2, 2012  
Repost: November 14, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Return_

* * *

Lounging about in Venus for too long was asking for trouble. Upon her arrival, Claris first verified whether Captain Harry had arrived ahead of the _Immortal Marauder_. Since she couldn't find a sign of him, her next task was to find something that would keep the ship busy. Every day, the ship ate tens of thousands of credits in fuel, provisions, maintenance and salaries. Keeping such a valuable asset idle, even at half strength, was a waste of credits.

She didn't once turn to the Ioan Embassy on Venus for assignments. Despite Harry's willingness to work for Io, Claris had no intention of deepening their relations with the House of Antares. Therefore, in the two weeks they spent at port, the commander let the rest of her crew handle repair and resupply while she went out into the wilderness in order to seek profitable ventures. Any target that was not aligned with Io was fair game for her. The local Venusians were rather tight-lipped towards a 'tourist' such as her, but her charms eventually granted her access to an executive of a small firm that could use their cruiser's presence as a tool of intimidation.

The job was short – just sail to some asteroid mine at one of Venus' Langrange points and wave the flag a few times. The mere sight of a cruiser would instill sufficient fear in the corporation who owned the mine, cowing it just enough to be receptive to her client's demands. And if the mine didn't back down, well, the _Marauder_ had enough gunners to shoot off a handful of warning shots.

All told, the trip back and forth took one long month, but the pay was decent and the new additions to her crew received some exercise. Claris had been worried about some of their new additions. They did not truly understand what is was like to serve under Captain Harry. But they were desperate cases who had nowhere else to go, so they weren't likely to betray them. Lieutenant Kenzie for example was a sweet little thing, but she was completely unsuited to the rough life Harry likely intended for them. She only hoped the girl would get it, as she needed someone competent to man the sensors. While Claris could still perform her old job, leading an entire cruiser took too much of her attention.

"Final authorization codes received. Docking with Amora Station in one minute."

"Ship has entered second-stage lock down. All non-vital systems are rendered inoperative."

"Taxes and docking charges have just been billed to the ship's account."

"There's a temperature fluctuation of 2.4 percent in compartment E-15 due to a powergrid inefficiency. Marking it for repair."

"All systems are green. No malfunctions detected so far."

"Docking procedure is commencing."

The cruiser slowly eased its way alongside one of the space station's massive docking arms, letting the clamps of the station hold the vessel in its grasp. After powering down the reactor and shutting most systems, the station released a walkway which attached itself to the _Marauder_'s passenger hatch. A squad of Venusian marines and inspectors carefully inspected the locked down ship before completely clearing it. Everyone sighed, and most were already planning on what Venusian delights they would sample.

'_The only delight I long for is to see the return of Captain Harry.'_

While she didn't encounter any significant problems in handling the crew, Harry's absence still lowered everyone's morale. The novelty of serving on a cruiser wore off, and despite Claris' best efforts, she was never the type of person who inspired people. Claris could easily sow fear, but earning the crew's respect was another matter altogether.

As the bridge officers locked down their stations, Claris took the time to log the ship on to the local stationnet in order to check for Harry's presence. Throughout their voyage, she had followed every scrap of news about Earth on the solarnet. Eavesdroppers constantly captured wireless transmissions from Earth and interpreted them for the rest of the solar system. Seven months ago, Claris read about two separate destructive incidents which was littered with Harry's fingerprints. Then the news stayed silent, until a new incident broke out few weeks ago where the island of Brittaan suffered from an unnatural plague, killing hundreds of millions before it suddenly disappeared, curing all of those who were still alive. Brittaan was completely devastated though, and Weup lost a lot of people as well. Percival Integrated virtually went bankrupt from the cataclysmic loss of life.

One thing was for sure. Harry was definitely behind the plague. It sounded _just_ like him. The thought of her captain orchestrating the death of an entire corporate nation made her laugh in savage glee. There was still hope for him yet!

Turning her attention back to her console, she paid the modest fee to gain access to the visitor logs and found that her captain had arrived on Amora Station not long after the outbreak of the plague. _'He's returned.'_

She almost couldn't believe it. Immediately she tapped her screen and received his local contact details. She called him up. It took only a few seconds for him to answer.

"Claris? You've returned I see."

The mere sight of the powerful wizard sent an immense wave of relief through her body. He had _no_ idea how much she missed him. Not a day would pass without his face passing by her mind. Captain Harry had become the very center of her life and she could not help but pine for his presence. Her legs shook as her arms grew weak. Once she recovered, she immediately let out a new systems-wide alert.

"Attention all personnel, this is the commander speaking. Captain Harry is present in Amora Station and will be arriving to us soon. All leave is canceled until further notice. I repeat, Captain Harry has returned."

"Hm, I've been wondering how much has changed in the last seven months since I was gone." Harry smirked a little. "With a measure of my power back, I can't wait to upgrade the ship."

Only then did she notice how one of Harry's eyes was covered with some sort of patch. At first glance it would have appeared as if Harry was merely closing one of his eyelids, but the patch was too smooth and obviously artificial in nature. "Captain.. did something happen to you on..?"

"I can't say anything on an open channel. I'll explain everything when I get back to the ship. One thing is for sure though, I have more enemies than I thought. At least one of them is _similar_ to me."

Her eyes widened. Was there another powerful magician in the solar system who wielded powers comparable to Harry? Such a person would have immense potential, and if he or she turned out to be Harry's enemy, then the stakes just got a lot higher.

"..Understood, Captain. I look forward to your return."

"Likewise."

The link cut off, leaving the woman momentarily bewildered. Many things had changed. Harry alluded to just a few of them but the implications were rather dear. Claris rubbed her head. The captain would come and explain it to her eventually. For now, all she had to do was to ready the ship for his return. She sent out a few more instructions to the crew before heading back to her quarters.

She had to look at her very best in order to welcome her captain back.

* * *

Venus was quite a relaxing planet. Everything was so laid back. Far removed from the resource wars in Jupiter's asteroid belt, the inhabitants of the planet led a relatively cozy life. Unlike Mars, Venus held a neutral relationship with Earth, and the Venusians were not very worried that their neighbor might surprise them with a raid or an invasion. Life carried on slowly. Harry found the pace decidedly relaxing. He spent his time theorizing on the most effective use of his magic while enjoying all that the pleasure planet had to offer. He even went down planetside and enjoyed the lovely resorts.

But as much as he enjoyed his vacation, it had to come to an end. His enemies were still out there, and he still had much to accomplish. The return of his ship couldn't have come at a better time. After packing his possessions and checking out of his hotel, he took a taxi to the docking terminal where his cruiser had parked.

Looking out from one of the viewports, the ship looked just as he remembered. The only difference was that her fearsome broadsides were retracted in her gunports, leaving her port and starboard deceptively smooth. Her forward demiturrets were also at what he recognized as a locked position, rendering them physically incapable of firing at the space station.

Well, it was time to come back home. He entered the unlocked walkway and crossed the empty distance between the station and the ship.

It felt like he was walking in darkness. The wide-open windows showed nothing but the black of space. Even the metal floor and ceiling didn't detract from the floating sensation he experienced as he finally reached the entry hatch of his ship. As soon as he reached it, the double doors flipped open, to reveal a small welcoming committee.

"Captain." Claris released with more than a hint of relief. "Welcome aboard."

His Second looked as gorgeous as ever, perhaps even more so. Having stayed away from her so long gave Harry a whole new appreciation of her perfect face and slim body. Her red uniform only accentuated her curves, and lured Harry to certain thoughts he didn't think was appropriate.

"Wow.. I mean thank you." He took her hand and shook it before turning to Cleveland and Zhang. "I see you guys are still alive."

They caught up a little as the commander led them to the spacious cargo bay. It turned out that Cleveland gained more confidence in leading his marine detachment, and that that Professor Zhang refused to accept a military title. "I'm not a spacer and everyone knows it. Unlike you, Harry, I don't need to adopt a phony title for legal purposes."

That produced a small chuckle which ended when they entered the cargo bay.

"ATTEN-HUT!" Someone called, and the boots of all of the marines stamped the deck in unison. "Captain on deck!"

Harry was impressed. The marines all looked neat and polished. Even the former pirates and other space scum they used as boarders had cleaned up and learned to salute.

"My marines are ready and able to serve you, Captain." Cleveland pronounced proudly, then leaned in Harry's ear. "They're very eager to receive new toys, if you get what I mean."

"Later." The captain whispered, then turned to a different set of rows that represented his spacers. He met many familiar faces such as Nicholas, Jennings, Felicity and his pilots, but also some new ones. "Who is this?"

"I-I'm Lieutenant Kenzie, sir! I operate the sensors station on the bridge."

The girl puffed up exaggeratedly, as if she had practiced the speech many times. Her transparency amused the wizard. He turned back to Claris and asked, "How many Venusians did we pick up?"

"One officer, nine marines and twenty-three spacers, sir. They have not yet received the Mark."

"Then that is the first issue that I will address for today." He then faced back to the crew and ordered in his most authoritative voice, "Every new crew member who have not yet received the Mark, step forward and line up!"

He started with Lieutenant Kenzie. The intensity of his single eye made the young woman falter in her confidence.

"Step up, girl, I don't have all day."

Reluctantly, she parted the sleeve of her vacsuit uniform and presented her bare arm to him. Harry grasped the flesh and pressed his thumb right near the elbow. An intense burning sensation formed, and Kenzie almost felt like she would collapse.

"Listen up my men. Whether you've stuck with me from the beginning or joined us very recently, a lot of things are going to change. I've been to Earth and came back out alive. As you already know, magic exists." His free hand retrieved his wand and he let out a spray of light to showcase his power. "But it is also more widespread than all of you believe. There is at least one secret society on Earth that have access to the remnants of old magic. These people have stolen _half_ my magic from me along with my eye."

The news shocked them quite a bit. There were more maniacs like Harry out there in the universe? Were they stronger or weaker than the captain?

"They took something from me. Something precious. I intend to do everything I can to get it back, but I can't do it alone. I need all of your help to gain strength and gather more power. Serve me, and you shall receive rich rewards. Money, prestige, weapons, knowledge, all of it is within your reach if you help me attain my goals."

Harry shifted deliberately to Kenzie and softened his tone. "Lieutenant Kenzie, are you with me?"

"Um.. yeah."

"I asked, are you with me!?"

"Yes sir!"

He swept his gaze back to the rest of his ranks. "ARE YOU WITH ME?!"

Nearly three hundred crewmen answered his call with a loud affirmation. The entire cargo bay echoed from the thunder of their voices. The satisfied wizard patted Kenzie's arm and finished marking up the remaining new recruits before dismissing them. As they walked away, he called for his Second.

"Claris, schedule a meeting at the conference room in thirty minutes. I want all of our command crew, both junior and senior, present. I have many things to discuss and new orders to give out. In the meanwhile I'll be returning to my cabin to ward it up and stow my luggage."

"Understood, sir."

Before he turned to go, he could help but pause and admire Claris' beauty. She shifted a bit under his stare. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Relax. There's nothing wrong."

"If you say so.. sir."

The commander turned to leave, allowing Harry to catch a generous glimpse of her swaying backside. _'Damn.. I forgot how hot she is.'_

He considered making a detour to the brig to relieve his tension, but canned the idea. Business first, pleasure later. With that thought, he took the elevator to the top deck and entered his lavish quarters to unpack.

* * *

Harry hated meetings, but it was the only way to get everyone up to speed. As he entered the room, he noticed that everyone else was already present. He spotted most of the bridge officers as well as a few lieutenants and chiefs from the other departments. Nodding to each of them, he went towards the center seat next to his Second.

"I've called this meeting in order to make you understand."

"Understand what, sir?"

"Everything. What the extent of my powers are, what I've experienced on Earth, and what are new objectives are. First, for those of you who are new, let me show you a definitive demonstration that magic exists."

He took up his Elder Wand and pointed it at a nearby vase-like ornament. A short beam of light transfigured it into a cat.

"Meow?"

The wizard didn't recall ever turning an inanimate object into an animal. The display clearly surprised the majority of his officers. Even Claris seemed surprised he had such a capability. Lieutenant Kenzie called the animal over and picked it up in her grasp. "It's an actual cat!" Some of the amazed crewmen came over and petted the purring black cat.

"Captain," Zhang called as he inspected the animal meticulously. "You never showed this ability before. How limited is this transformation ability of yours? Can you transform objects into larger animals? Can you turn them into human beings who are self-aware? Can you also do the reverse?"

"Transfiguration is a relatively magic intense ability, so when my magic-draining curses were still active I didn't want to waste my limited pool of resources. At my peak I can create a pack of lions, but with my power halved, I can only maintain one at most. As far as I know, I can transfigure any object into a non-magical animal but not another human being. I also can't turn humans into objects, unfortunately."

"Sir," Claris prompted. "You mentioned that you only possess half your power. What does that mean?"

The wizard already had an analogy ready since he doubted that they'd understand it in magical terms. He simplified the story though because going into detail about the curses that drained his magical expenditure was too complicated. "Let me put it this way. Let's assume I'm a weapon. Before my visit to Earth, I was like a beam. I could expend resources – in this case reactor power – to destroy an enemy ship. But my ammunition was finite. If I continued to fire my gun as it were, I would eventually run out of energy."

"Didn't you have any way to replenish your reactor to full capacity?" Kenzie asked in curiosity.

"No. The exact mechanics is kind of different from my explanation, but for the sake of simplicity you can assume that the reactor is unique and that no one in the world knows how to refuel it. Do you understand my meaning?"

A few nods went round the room. His newer crewmen were a lot more reluctant, but Harry went to the next part. "So you see that a beam laser which can't replenish its power is a pretty useless weapon, right? That's why I traveled to Earth in order to fix my 'reactor'."

"And did you succeed?"

"Only halfway. I met an 'engineer' who fixed my reactor, but she stole half of its capacity when I wasn't paying attention."

"What!"

"That's impossible, the underlying mechanics of a reactor clearly preclude—"

Harry cut off Menzies rant. "Don't take it literally. I said this was an analogy. Now as I was saying, the thief basically crippled my energy output and capacity into half, which while still decent is nowhere near my full potential. Getting back to the beam laser, you can basically say that instead of a Class VIII laser, it turned into a Class VII, because I lack the strength to maintain such a high rate of energy output. I also run out of energy twice as fast because my capacity is lower."

"But you managed to fix your reactor so it replenishes itself, right?"

"Yes, and that's the most important benefit I gained from Earth. I can accomplish most of the things that I can do at my peak with half my magic, I just need twice as much time. However, there is just one particular area where my weakness expresses itself the most, my combat magic."

"Ah, I see." Zhang nodded. He was always the first one to grasp these kinds of logical arguments. "Given no time limit, it does not matter how long you take to accomplish a goal. But if you face an enemy who fights back, you're on a clock, and that's where your diminished power really cripples you."

"I still have a lot of tricks up my sleeve." Harry stated, trying to make clear he didn't turn into a squib. "A Class VII beam laser might be less powerful than a Class VIII laser, but they can both destroy starships."

Everyone sort of understood the new situation. "Sir, can I ask what other 'magic' you can perform?"

"You've already witnessed transfiguration. I know a lot of spells that can debilitate, stun, or kill other people. I can cast charms which strengthen objects, reduces their weight or make them float. I can cast incantations which make other people ignore me or appear as another person. I can teleport in two different manners. The first is apparition, which allows me to teleport to any location that I have visited before. The second method is the use of portkeys, which are enchanted objects which are keyed to teleport anyone who touches it to a location the caster is familiar with or where another enchanted item is located."

"Now," He paused and used his pocket knife to cut his thumb. "What I've just described is what I can do with my wand. There is another strain of magic that involves more permanent effects and is less magic intensive. Most of you have already seen many examples on the _Eviscerator_, and I'm sure you've noticed my handiwork on this vessel as well. Wards, runes and ritual magic are all means to effect a more permanent change to an object as long as the markings last. On old Earth, there used to be a lot of magical tombs which were guarded with the most elaborate wards that you can't just wipe away with the swipe of your hand. Does anyone have a weapon on hand?"

"I'm carrying a pulse pistol." Cleveland answered reluctantly. "You're not going to order me to shoot you, are you?"

"Do it. Now."

Despite having witnessed Harry's magic plenty of times, the head of the marines was reluctant to fire at his superior.

"Pull the trigger, you pussy."

A pulsed particle bolt immediately spat out from the barrel of the gun, travelling with incredible speeds until it harmlessly dissipated off an invisible shield mere centimeters away from his body.

"Incredible."

"I can't keep up this ward indefinitely as it can run out of energy. But well-designed wards combined with runes can withstand an incredible amount of punishment. The best ones are built along the magical ley-lines that run underneath the Earth, but obviously that doesn't apply in space."

"So you can basically make us all invincible? And the ship as well?"

"Erm.. not to such an extreme. I already have an idea on how to strengthen the hull of the ship, but I have many more improvements in mind that I need to discuss with the specialists. As for personal protection, the basic rule is the more surface area I have at my disposal, the more powerful your protections are."

Harry answered a few more questions from the crowd, such as telling how the strength of his wards doesn't depend on his magical power, and that he hadn't figured out a countermeasure for nEMP which rendered all of his magical enchantments inert. After he exhausted everyone's questions, he turned to Earth.

"Now, let me tell you what I experienced on Earth."

He went into his story, starting right from the start as he portkeyed off the coast of Brittaan. With the help of news articles floating around the solarnet, he illustrated his journey to Stonehenge, letting holoimages flash by on the central projector. He then turned to his ordeal in the Himalayas, how he fought through flying marines until he reached the top of Mt. Everest, only to be almost killed by an orbital laser.

"Then, I met that 'engineer' in my secret sanctuary. Somehow, she bypassed all the security I placed in there."

With a lot of discomfort Harry described how he got lulled into a false sense of security. The engineer fixed all of his battle damage and repaired his reactor, but just when he fully recovered she EMPed him and stole half of his capacity along with his eye.

"So that's how you lost your eye." More than half of the members present winced as Harry described the machine which ruthlessly separated the organ from his eye socket.

"Can't your magic regrow your eye yet?"

"It's.. complicated." The one-eyed wizard muttered. "The engineer used a combination of magic and technology to remove my eye, which also pulled half of my magic. I don't dare to regenerate a new eyeball with either magic or technology because it will definitely screw up my connection to the missing half of my magic. To be frank I don't know what the effects would be, only that it would be really bad."

"What about implanting yourself with a cybernetic eye?"

A rueful smile appeared on Harry's face. "I've put a lot of thought into it. Magic has its own version of a fake eye that provides the functionality of a real one, but I think it is rather risky to put a magical object in my cursed eye socket. A machine on the other hand.. I suppose it stands a better chance of success. I do need some advice though on which model to implant from which company, since there seemed to be thousands of different versions last time I checked."

The medical doctor, an old Ioan named Scranton, spoke up for the first time. "I can help with that."

"Good. I'll speak with you later." Harry clapped his hands. "Now we get to the final part of the meeting. Our new goals."

"I assume you want to regain the lost part of your magic from the thief on Earth?" Claris guessed.

"Yes." Harry was about to mention the plague he unleashed on the planet, but stopped himself. Not all of his crew would look at him kindly if they found out he mercilessly robbed hundreds of millions of people of their lives. "U-ahem, all I can infer so far is that the woman isn't working alone – she most definitely has an organization behind her that is based on Earth. Currently I know barely anything about them concretely except for one fact. I definitely need to become a lot stronger before I'm confident enough to confront them."

"What is the fact you've mentioned?"

This turned the conversation to the weird part. Reaching inside his pocket, he withdrew the family tree of the House of Black. "This is a magical scroll that will display all of the family members of an ancient aristocratic bloodline, which I am the adoptive heir of."

Harry laid it over the conference table and pushed, letting it roll out the entire length until it reached the other end of the table. "The line starts somewhere in the middle ages but that's not really interesting. Look at the names that start around the 2000's."

Felicity who sat at the middle of the table traced the correct name. "Harry…James Potter-Black, 31 July 1980?" She looked up in shock. "Are you really _that_ old, sir?"

"No way! You're an actual immortal?"

The tired old man who looked like he was in his late teens nodded. "Yes.. to both, but I was imprisoned from the 2100 up to a year ago, so I didn't live out 900 years of my life."

The truth of Harry's age and immortality had stunned everyone in the room. The wizard felt a bit annoyed since it wasn't his main point. "More importantly, look at the entries directly below my name."

The heads that turned to that section of the scroll raised their eyebrows. "Wow sir.. you have a lot of offspring."

"I may have been rather.. sloppy. Now look downwards."

His crewmen were quick to reach the same conclusion as Harry did. His children prospered, fathering more children who all lived happily ever after creating even more offspring.

"How much..sir?"

"At this age? I don't know, since I simply don't have the space to roll that far. But if the pattern is the same.. a few million, I bet."

"Excuse me, sir." Zhang interjected. "But why is this connected to the thief who stole your magic?"

"I haven't told you this, but in the twenty-first century I picked a fight with pretty much every magic user. The women you see there who fathered my children were witches who I've raped but hadn't sufficiently disposed of. In any case, the war progressed until I used a superweapon which was supposed to wipe out everything that was magical except for me and my possessions."

"Ah. You didn't know you had children so they survived the superweapon."

"Correct." Harry nodded. "And I bet that woman is one of my hundred-times late granddaughter. While she's my illegitimate offspring, she nevertheless shares my blood, allowing her protection to my ancient hideouts on Earth. I assume she and the rest of her little family branch have studied all there was to my possessions and are formidable opponents. Their acquisition of my magic will only make them more powerful."

"And you want us to fight such an opponent? That sounds crazy."

"Nothing is crazy with magic." Harry then laid out his immediate future plans. Their main objective was to grow stronger. The ship needed to return to Io and be fully crewed. He then needed a lot of time, money and space to strengthen the _Immortal Marauder_ and perhaps acquire additional vessels in order to form a strike group capable of raiding Earth.

"We don't need to get entangled into a line battle with their formidable defenses. With the help of my magic, we can perform hit and run strikes on their defensive emplacements, eroding them bit by bit until one more push will break them wide open. _Then_ would be the time to strike at Earth itself."

"Sir... there's one problem with that."

"Yes, Kenzie?"

"Well, not to be rude or anything." She muttered while avoiding Harry's eyes. "But what's in it for us? I mean, harassing Earth sounds pretty much suicide, and I doubt Io will condone your actions."

"Don't worry about Io's reaction. We can probably disguise or glamour our ships in order to avoid leaving a trail. As for what's in it for you… Well, aside from the fact that you have no choice to serve me, you'll gain riches beyond dreams and power beyond your comprehension. While my magic can't accomplish _everything_, I can perform many feats that other people think is impossible." He gestured to the cat that slept on the table. "You can start thinking of a favor you want fulfilled, and if I think you deserve a reward for your loyalty, I might grant it if its within my power. Is that sufficient?"

From the skeptical looks on most of their faces, he didn't quite bought them in. Only a few exceptions such as Claris and Zhang were truly loyal to him. As for the rest, well, he hoped the coming weeks would change their minds as they encounter more concrete examples of his magic.

"Anyway, I think that's enough discussion for now. While we still need to figure out how to get enough credits to buy a passage through the Gravitic Catapult back to Io, I want to spend a few weeks reinforcing the _Immortal Marauder_ first. It's about time the ship starts to earn the 'Immortal' part. Dismissed, everyone."

"One more thing. Leave is reinstated. You are free to leave the ship as long as the duty roster says you don't have to stand watch."

The crowd filtered out to return to their duties or plans to visit the space station. Only Scranton and Claris waited behind. Harry was rather eager to talk to the medical doctor about an optical implant, but he respected Claris too much to dismiss her out of hand.

"Captain.. about what you mentioned earlier." The beautiful raven-haired officer breathed deeply before continuing. "I've worked hard to run the ship and keep the crew afloat. I was wondering if I can cash in my reward right now.."

He smiled, brightly this time. "Claris, of all the people who served me, you have been the most helpful, the most loyal and the most dependable ally I have ever had the pleasure of working with. As far as I'm concerned, you deserve a whole world for what you've done."

"Then I wish—"

"Hold on." The captain held out his hand. "I want to talk to Dr. Scranton first and finish unpacking my luggage. Come visit my quarters in the evening and we can have an intimate talk on your reward, okay?"

"Yes.. sir. I'll look forward to it, sir." She bowed quickly and left the conference room.

Harry regarded Scranton with his remaining eye and beckoned him to come closer. "I know we haven't had the pleasure of working with each other for more than a few weeks but I hope you'll be able to help me. Now, about that cybernetic eye. Can you give me a basic rundown first before we go into specific models? The information sites I visited were rather vague and littered with jargon."

"Ah, yes captain. A cybernetic eye is an electronic device made out of either hard metal for the cheaper models or soft plastics and crystals for the upscale models. They are expressly distinct from vat-grown eyes by containing no biological tissue. The procedure to install them in an empty eye socket is fairly easy if you meet certain conditions. As long as its connectors can latch on to your neural pathways and your body does not reject the material the outer casing of the eye is made of, there will be no complications."

"Are wearers of cybernetic eyes susceptible to hacking?" Harry asked, as this was the point he was most hung up on. "I was once offered the opportunity to have a mental communications implant installed in my brain, but I eventually turned it down for that reason."

"Please." Scranton puffed as he crossed his arms. "A mental communications implant is a totally different device. The wireless connectivity is hardwired into the neural link device, otherwise it can't transmit the bearer's thoughts. A cybernetic eye on the other hand is expressly designed to communicate solely with the human body's physical neurons, minimizing any signals that an external sensor can pick up. The more expensive models are better at eliminating leakage, but pretty much all eyes are impossible to tap in. Otherwise no one buys the devices in the first place."

"Good, very good." The one-eyed boy was definitely interested now. "What can you tell me about their capabilities?"

"All eyes offer full transmission of the visual spectrum of electromagnetic radiation – ah, visual light, I mean. However, even most cheap eyes usually offer you to visualize other spectra, such as infrared, x-ray and – Mercury forbid – gamma radiation."

"Infrared is heat vision, right?"

"That is correct. I suppose in your case you can use it to detect hidden people or track their trail by using the latent heat of their footsteps."

"Wicked. Now what else can an eye do?"

"Literally thousands of functions. The mainstream additions are a heads-up display, augmented reality, magnification, image capture, memorization, pattern analysis, reading facial expressions, visualizing and identifying chemical substances, observing sound and locating its source, etcetera, etcetera. I can go on for hours."

A lot of the functions sound like useful gadgets. To have all those capabilities at his disposal in one compact device was a dream. "I want as much functions as possible. I assume they cost quite a lot. Can you give me a price estimate?"

The doctor shook his head. "The most expensive models might be loaded with hundreds of functions, but they cost millions of credits to buy, since they are manufactured with extrasolar materials."

Harry grinned savagely. "It's a good thing I'm loaded."

"The best ones are made by Venusian or Callistoan biocorporations. If you wish, I can recommend you different models from their catalog."

"Please do."

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	41. II: Legacy of the Seed - Repost

April 4, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Censored Version  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** It's kind of stupid how I'm forced to obfuscate explicit content like this.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Legacy of the Seed_

* * *

A rather nervous and excited Claris pressed the chime for Harry's quarters. In hindsight, asking so boldly for a reward might have made her seem impertinent, but she was partially reassured by Harry's gratitude for her services. _'He recognizes me!'_ She almost wanted to squeal in joy. Yet as she entered Harry's quarters, she quickly regained her composure.

"Claris. Come sit down." He called from the bed. It seemed he had taken a nap of some sorts and was just relaxing on his bed.

The commander shuffled closer and sat at the foot of his extremely soft mattress. Harry must have paid extremely good attention on it when he fitted out the ship. Just pressing her backside on its fluffy surface made her let out a moan, which she quickly covered up with a cough.

"Captain, about the favor I asked you earlier.."

"Mmm? Ah yes, I recall I promised you a magical artifact a long time ago."

"That's a welcome gift, sir. But my favor concerns something else, something which you might not be so ready to grant."

"Well? What is it? Spit it out."

'_Turn me into a magician like you.'_ She wanted to ask him, but he would never agree to share his power. "Having another magical toy is nice and all, but what I want is a better measure of control over the crew. You gave me the ability to summon anyone who wears the mark with the _Dobby_ word. Are there.. any other words you can grant me?"

"There are other power words, yes." Harry had designed his Mark to force the wearer to undergo several impulses when a certain empowered word was triggered. Soul magic was capable of powerful feats, though the body of a muggle couldn't sustain that much magic. "Not many, though. There's _Bellatrix_ for pain, _Pettigrew_ for paralysis, and _Voldemort_ to kill."

"Will you.. will you allow me to use those words as well? If I have the power you describe, I can keep our people better in line, and it will show the crew that you trust me. You can't be everywhere, Harry. These last seven months without you has been trying."

The wizard thought about the mechanics of such a thing. It was possible for a muggle to trigger the words since they were powered by the carrier's Mark and was not dependent on the power of the transmitter. Yet to allow Claris to make use of those words meant breaking down her mark and creating an expanded one from the ground up. It wouldn't be the size of his thumb anymore – the ugly black patterns would probably extend to her entire bicep.

"I can give you what you ask, but it will take time for me to design the control Mark. Out of everyone, you're the person who I've been relying the most, so you deserve to be rewarded. I will do what you ask, but give me a few days."

"Thank you Harry." Claris poured out, feeling immense satisfaction at the price she would receive. _'I'll have the power to cut the life off Amande or Selner.'_ "I will use my new powers responsibly."

"Good. Now about the other gift. I'll deliver something nice to you when I'm ready to apply the new Mark, is that alright?"

"Yes sir. I can wait."

"Alright. Now if you can excuse me," Harry leaned up from the bed and slipped into his boots. "A certain prisoner is long overdue for an interrogation."

"Oh, before you do.. I have a confession to make. I may have.. toyed with the prisoner."

"In what way?" He turned to her, not particularly concerned. "Are you a lesbian or—"

"No. I don't swing that way." Claris rapidly shot out, hoping that he would not get the wrong idea about her. "I only vented my frustration out of her by whipping her and beating her up. I kept from permanently marring her and I let the doctor patch her up after each session."

Harry could sense that Claris held a tiny fear in her heart. She was probably afraid he'd be mad. "That's alright, I'm not angry with you, as long as she's alive. I do have one question though, does she fear you?"

"I suppose so.. I only ever entered her cell to brutalize her.."

"Great, that will make my job easier. Let's head down to the brig." He grabbed a flat box from his desk and caught Claris' hand, tugging her along as the eager wizard exited his quarters. They took the express elevator down to the lower decks and entered the holding area. Sergeant Castia who manned the control room stood up and saluted them both.

"How's the prisoner?"

"She's awake and conscious. I fed her two hours ago."

"Then she'll have plenty of energy for what I have in store for her." Harry grinned, and turned to Claris. "How regularly did you visit Star?"

"About once a week, sometimes more, ever since you left our ship."

"Hm, that's a lot of visits." He put a finger up his chin and thought. "That means that Star will likely consider this visit another routine. That won't do. Where's the whip you use?"

"Over here, sir." Castia called and opened a locker to reveal an assortment of tools. The whip looked very out of place. She handed it over to Harry. "I clean it up after each use."

The black, synthetically composed device was one of those multi-tailed designs. The handle was thick and firm while its many tails were light, flexible and supple. As he ran his hand through them, he felt it wasn't a severe type of implement – hitting someone hard with this whip wouldn't cause the skin to split. He figured Claris chose this design so she could swing with all of her might without risking cuts or infections.

Still, just a regular whipping session wouldn't do this time. He pulled out his wand and cast a small enchantment on the tails. They glowed an ominous red before fading. Satisfied, he passed the whip to Claris. "I added an extra sting to the bite."

"You want me to do my usual?" She felt a bit uncomfortable letting herself go if Harry watched her every movement. Would he think she was a brute? "It will not a pleasant sight, sir."

"I won't mind. I want you to give it hard to Star. This time, I want you to go beyond just hurting her. I want you to torture her and break her will. I need her to feel so miserable that she would rather die. Can you do that for me, Claris?"

"I.. I will do as you asked." Summoning her resolve, she stretched the whip and entered the cell where Star was kept. The girl looked up and paled in fear.

"No.. not again.. please.."

Her eyes widened as the blond Veela descendant saw Harry follow after her tormentor. The boy carried a simple metal chair which he set down in the middle of the room. "This is the day when you will surrender and tell me everything you know, my pet."

Claris meanwhile pulled out the remote that controlled Star's gravitic cuffs and held it at the ready. "Get ready."

Already dreading for what was about to come, the woman nevertheless obeyed and prepared her body to her two tormentors. She then went over an empty part of the cell and felt her cuffs take hold, separating her body and spreading it wide for Claris and Harry's perusal.

As soon as Star's shapely legs and lovely curves were exposed, Harry felt his pants go ramrod straight. Without a care in the world, he zipped open his pants and began to pleasure himself with his unoccupied hand. This was going to be a show he would never forget.

The commander held her whip taut, raised it over her head, and struck it down hard on the woman's chest. Star cried out in excruciating agony as she felt more than the usual sting. Even Claris was surprised how strong the effect had been.

"Go on, Claris. Remember what I told you. Keep going."

She held her whip sideways this time and hit Star's perfectly flat stomach. The impact jarred Star so much her gravitic bonds couldn't keep her in place.

"Please, captain, please stop this. I beg of you, I'll do anything."

Star's begging only excited Harry more. He stroked a little harder. "Claris, hit her harder. I want to hear her moan."

Claris really let go this time. The sounds coming out of the blond felt like ecstasy to Harry. The whip struck her swell until they were red, then moved on to her legs. One strike hit her square in her sensitive parts, causing her to shriek.

Breathing heavily, she summoned up her allure and unleashed it on Harry. "Please, Harry, save me, free me, I'll do anything you want. I'll kiss you, I'll sleep with you, just please don't hurt me anymore."

Harry's excitement only stood straighter as Harry absorbed the allure and enjoyed its sensual touch. His wards prevented him from being seduced, however, and he merely grinned at her while continuing to stroke.

"I already own you, pet. I can do anything I want whenever I want, and right now I want you to keep up whatever you're doing while Claris demolishes your body."

"No, Harry, please!"

"Claris, continue. Be ruthless."

Seeing Claris work Star over made him feel like he was in heaven. Star's pitiful attempts at seducing him only made the sensation better. His Second whipped practically every part of Star's front until it was all red. By now she had been reduced to tears, marring her perfect untouched face.

Then Claris manipulated the remote and turned Star over to reveal her small, supple and untouched rear.

Star's tears already started falling to the floor as Claris struck her back, eliciting another pain-ridden cry. This went on and soon Star's entire back was striped. For some reason, the commander deliberately left Star's cheeks untouched. The pale, white texture made a juicy contrast to the rest of the victim's battered skin.

Claris instead walked closer and caressed her palms, teasing the skin and making the anticipation even worse.

"Please, Claris, please please please don't hurt me, I'll do anything, please.."

A finger brushed Star's lips, making her gasp in the midst of her pleas. A digit entered the folds, teasing the insides before pulling out. Claris' finger then trailed the skin of Star's skin, leaving short wet line that quickly dried.

"Don't commander, please, have mercy, please just stop it.."

An open palm slammed against the cheeks, causing the victim to let out a resounding scream. Claris let her whip take over then, whipping her until all of her skin turned red, then continued to switch her a few times more.

At the end, Claris dropped the whip from her exhausted hand. Star had long stopped her futile pleas and was barely coherent enough to talk at all.

Cracking her fists, Claris went on with the second part of the routine. She caught her breath as she entered into a boxing stance. Her breath huffed up as her entire body pumped up. Hitting a whip was fun, but nothing gave her more exercise than punching a body bag.

Claris let out a jab at those perfect reddened bosom. Star grunted a little, but knowing what was to come she braced herself. More fists came around, landing hard enough to hurt. Star felt her abused body go under a tremendous strain as the hits kept coming. Her tears came anew as she was battered until she became nothing more than a lump of tortured meat.

"I.. I think that's enough." Claris huffed as she dropped her stance. "I can't go any longer."

"That's fine Claris." Harry said as he stopped stroking his rod. "Shut down the cuffs."

"Pardon, sir?"

"Turn them off."

As Claris switched off the cuffs, Star's limp body collapsed on the sweat-soaked tiles of the cell. Harry enjoyed the moment before tossing the box he carried towards the beaten girl.

"Claris, stand back. Give her space."

As he thought, the tension that welled up in Star released itself as Claris walked out of view.

"Star. Look at me."

The woman ached far too much to move. She didn't have it in her to even lift her head.

"I said, look at me!"

Something in Harry's voice made her tingle. Despite the pain it would bring to her, she turned just enough to meet Harry's healthy eye. The boy was the cause of all the misery she endured during the last months. As she stared in his cool and composed eye, she wanted to do nothing more than to rip it out and stomp it into pus. She wanted to do nothing more than to.. to..

'_..I don't really care anymore. I just want this eternal torture to end!'_

"Star. A pleasure to see you again."

"Ugh.. what.. do you want?"

"I want you to become my pet. I want you to abandon every vestige of your old life and forget about parading as a human being. I know what you _really_ are. Veelas such as you are meant to be shackled. You will make a fine prize in my bestiary. You'll have nothing more to worry about." Harry then gestured to his uncovered waist. "Except for comforting me, that is. If you behave, you'll have all the luxury you need. No one will ever hurt you. What do you say?"

Star wanted to curl up and cry. A torrent of emotions raged within her, all wanting to make her do different things. The agent within her knew exactly what Harry was doing. But all the theory and 'simulations' on torture never prepared her for the real deal. That Claris had been beating her continuously for these last seven months had slowly eroded her will until she almost lost her hope. The remaining spark that burned within her heart wouldn't last much longer. She didn't have it in her to resist much longer. All her remaining loyalty to Galaxy and her benefactors seemed pointless now that she was out of reach.

"If you don't admit your place in the world, perhaps I can send Claris to teach you another lesson." The exulting boy waved her hand at his waiting Second. "She can come and visit you _every_ single night."

His mere suggestion finally broke the straw. A snap resounded in Star's brain as her glazing eyes showed defeat. She couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the agony, the humiliation, Star wanted to run away from it all and forget the experience. Her eyes lowered until they reached Harry's mildly impressive package.

It looked so.. smooth. Supple. Pain was something she hated vehemently, but love.. love made her feel good. Love made her feel valued. Love provided the blond woman with more comfort and reassurance than anything else in her life.

Harry noticed his future pet's gaze and smirked. "Yes, my dove. That's your new best friend. Veelas like you are built for service. Give in to your instincts and surrender to me. I'll take care of you as long as you make me feel good. I'll keep you safe, I promise. Just open the box if you accept."

The boy was the cause for everything Star suffered at the hands of the black-haired bitch. Yet she couldn't summon her anger. It wasn't Harry who whipped her raw and punched her babies like they were pillows. No, Claris was responsible, not Harry. The captain offered her salvation. She knew in her very heart that Harry would do everything he could to stop the bitch from hurting her again. He would keep his word and keep her safe.

Star's trembling hands released the latch and opened the small brown box to reveal a simple black leather collar. A small metal ring hung under it, presumably to attach a leash on it. The meaning was clear. Without hesitation, she lifted up the thin but firm collar and belted it around her neck. She felt so humiliated as she fumbled with the buckle, but in a strange twisted way the collar made her feel safe. Wearing it made her lose her humanity, and all the responsibilities that entailed. With the collar on, she could forget about all her worries and simply focus on simple pleasures.

"Come to me."

And she did. Star crawled to Harry as if she was a mangled pup. Her powerless limbs flailed as she dragged her aching body over to the waiting captain. His glistening flesh loomed ever closer, and all Star could think was that it would keep her safe forever. Tears of happiness fell from her eyes as she reached Harry's boots. Her strained hands scrabbled the legs. Pulling herself up, she dropped her head right in front of Harry's raging head.

Weakly, Star stuck out her tongue. Harry felt an incredible surge of pleasure run through his body as his new pet continued to tease him with her timid skills. He smiled down at her and met her happy expression. He stretched out a hand and lightly stroked her matted blond hair. Even now, her untreated hair flowed as smooth as silk. He absolutely loved to pet Star's head while she took in more with her pliant mouth.

"Oh Merlin.. you feel incredible. Take it in, my pet."

He pressed Star's head deeper, forcing her to stuff her mouth. He noticed her discomfort and reveled in it.

"A good pet never disobeys. You're not going to be a bad pet, are you?"

Fear swam from her shaking frame. The blond quickly slurped harder and did her best to relax her throat. She would do _anything_ to avoid making Harry angry. Making him angry meant Claris would punish her.

Taking a good grip of Star's hair, he took control of her head and started ramming the insides of her mouth. He started slowly, then eased himself backwards as the pleasure overtook him. Harry sped up the pace, using the woman's mouth as nothing more than a pestle for his mortar to pound into. Everything in the world faded out as he enjoyed the warm and wet delights of a woman's oral cavity. Harry took a good look at his straining victim and thought of her as nothing more than a tool for release. Pets like her weren't human enough to be treated as one.

"That's it, take it all and enjoy it, for you'll be spending the rest of your life keeping me busy with your holes."

Star felt mortified for a moment, but slowly eased herself into Harry's pace. Sucking him was a hundred times better than enduring a single session with Claris. As Harry began to whisper more endearments to her, she sank back her mind and let the words dig in. Veela. Pet. Tool.

Despite Harry's rough treatment, she felt her entire body begin to accept her new status. Being human wasn't worth it anymore. The captain made her feel safe. He valued her. He loved her. The realization made her moan deeply from the sensations that wrecked within her heart.

"Oh Merlin, I'm almost there! Fucking take it all!"

A series of spasms overtook the blissful boy as he held Star tight. The girl choked as her mouth and throat began to fill. Her fingers balled into tiny fists that bumped against Harry's legs, but they might as well be feathers. Harry continued to use his pet's luscious mouth as a drain. Eventually, he completely exhausted himself. Star took the opportunity to withdraw her head and cough.

"Don't spill." Harry hissed. "From now on, this is the most important juice in your life. You're not allowed to spill _any_ of it. If you do, you'll lick it from the floor like you did the last times I visited you."

Taking his warnings in kind, she meagerly held her hands over her mouth. Star willed herself to swallow all of the disgusting mixture. After a few heavy swallows, she lowered her head. "I.. I did as you asked."

"Master. Call me master."

"Yes, master."

Pure exultation glowed from the wizard as he beheld his new price. His new pet was more than anything he had expected. Her mouth felt heavenly and he couldn't wait to sample her pussy again. While she would never replace Selner, she would be an excellent alternative to his hand.

"Hmm.. I suppose I'll let the doctor in and heal you." Harry stood out and gestured Claris to follow him. "I'll have some new clothes brought to you and when you regain your strength and have you brought into my quarters."

As Harry passed the cell door, he looked back and smiled at his latest acquisition. "I expect many things from you, my dove. Don't disappoint me."

As the boy left Star alone, she weakly crawled back on her bunk, and collapsed. She had made her decision and she wasn't going to back away from it. Escape held no meaning to her anymore. Nothing awaited her outside. The universe was cruel, too cruel for someone as fragile as her. It was better to become a pet and let all her worries behind. Serving Harry felt.. good. Painful, but good. Pleasuring him was no trouble. Galaxy had trained her in the erotic arts, and Harry said that her body was made for love making. All her life revolved around love making. It was all she could ever do. Having one, single person appreciate her for what she really was made her feel warm.

As Star tried to hug herself without aggravating her wounds, she wondered about the boy. His power overwhelmed her ego, his voice intoxicated her body, and his very presence made her surrender to him. She chuckled deliriously until her sore throat protested.

It was as if she had fallen for his allure.

* * *

Professor Zhang entered the medical bay and nodded respectfully at the doctor. Scranton grunted and continued to pretend he was working on his terminal. None of the crew had suffered any injuries in the past month so it probably wasn't of any importance.

Scranton always felt.. off to the Asian man. While Zhang respected the doctor for his academic accomplishments, Scranton felt more in tune with the pirate faction of the ship and always kept himself distant. Zhang often tried to approach him in order to discuss the mechanics of magic, but Scranton always blew it off in a way that discouraged any further attempts. Those days made him miss Dr. Selner. At least she held a passing interest on the subject.

The hatch opened a second time to reveal a thoroughly refreshed Harry. _'Probably has to do with his new pet.'_ Zhang guessed. He'd seen the beautiful lady on all fours and led by a leash. Some of the crew were deeply offended, but Zhang simply didn't care. _'There are more important things to be concerned about than a young man indulging himself.'_

"Ah, doctor, professor. You're both here, good."

"May I ask why you have summoned us, captain?"

Harry's face turned serious as he seated himself on an idle chair. "I wanted to have a talk with my two best eggheads. There are a few matters I need done and you two are my best starting point. First, Zhang, have you investigated why nEMP affects my magic so strongly?"

"I've been carrying out experiments on the wards you left behind on the ship. Sadly, their signatures are rather weak for my instruments to pick up, so I haven't formed more than a few speculative guesses. It would help my research tremendously if you let me have access to a stronger form of magic."

"Hm, easily done." The wizard then held out his wand and enchanted a beaker with a series of spells. He then tossed it to Zhang. "Now, that should be strong enough. So what have you found out so far?"

"Well, the actual physics behind my theories are extremely complicated, so I will do my best to.. simplify them." He coughed, hoping Harry wouldn't take offense. "According to a particular view of reality, an infinite number of dimensions exist in a universe. Human beings like us are able to sense the three dimensions of physical space and the fourth dimension of time."

"I've heard of this." Harry put a finger on his lip as he tried to recall. "Ah, something about how the Gravitic Catapult propels our ship in higher dimensions in order to prevent us from colliding against a rock midway through our journey."

"Gravitic theory has advanced this viewpoint to some measure of prominence, but I must caution you not to take that theory literally. No one has a very great understanding on the Catapults. In any case, the theory poses that our three dimensions are just a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the total array of dimensions that our universe is expressed in. Heaven could be on one set of dimensions, and hell could be on another. Perhaps the middle dimensions are where all of the souls of the dead go. We do not know."

"So what does this have to do with nEMP?"

"Before we talk about nEMP, what do you know about EMP?"

"Ehm… not much." Harry admitted. "Just that it's like a blast that knocks out electronics but isn't lethal."

"That is the military application of EMP. Fundamentally, you should know that the first two letters in EMP stand for Electromagnetic. As the terms suggests, it involved electricity and magnetism, which when combined and radiated from a particular source usually expresses itself in the form of radio waves, infrared, visible light, UV rays, and many, many other forms."

"I'm not here for a physics lesson, professor. Can you come to the point?"

Scranton looked disapprovingly. "He is trying to give you the groundwork to _understand_, captain. Haste will not get you what you want."

"In any case, what we know so far is that most electromagnetic radiation occurs in the four dimensions that we experience directly along with a few of the dimensions above that. In their regular use, EMP affects metallic electronics strongly but has comparatively little effect on both organisms and crystalline technology such as the Ship Crystal. Now Harry, have you ever sought out what the 'n' in nEMP stands for?"

"I haven't. I'm surrounded by so many unfamiliar terms that I hardly ever have to the time study them all."

"The 'n' stands for neuro, as nEMP was originally conceived to incapacitate human being remotely."

Scranton added more detail. "Supposedly, nEMP sends out a scrambling pulse that disables not only electronics but human beings, but not by overloading their bodies. Instead, nEMP has a very strong effect on the neural activity of the brain. It's theorized that the human consciousness operate on a level beyond just the material realm, and the effects of nEMP, which is proven to affect a set of higher dimensions, scrambles all thoughts." Scranton then snorted a little. "A few radical transhumanists even propose that these thoughts can be tapped into, but that's ridiculous."

Harry had never in his life heard about these lovely 'theories' the muggles had come up with. The resonance these theories had to magic was undeniable. He had to know more. "Professor, how do you think nEMP and magic is connected?"

"Well, it's based on lot of guesswork, but I believe I have a tentative theory that can be proven with further experimentation. Most simply put, I believe magic operates on a particular band of very high dimensions, and that nEMP is somehow able to affect them. No other technology can affect a higher band than nEMP, which explains why nothing short of cosmic events can disrupt magic."

"There's one very fundamental shortcoming in your theory, professor." Scranton said as he crossed his arms. "If magic operates through a higher band, how does nEMP know exactly where to find it? When we assume that our universe is made up of infinite dimensions, and if we also assume that magic operates on bands other than the human consciousness, then it would be like finding a single star in our immense galaxy. The odds are so close to zero they might as well be zero, but nevertheless nEMP is able to exactly hit those dimensions where magic operates."

"I've thought about this issue." The professor retorted, a bit annoyed he didn't have a chance to explain it himself. "I've formed two possible explanations that could lead to this conclusion. One, magic operates on the _same_ dimensional bands as human thinking. You could say they are both different expressions of the same source, two sides of a coin, as the archaic saying goes."

While this might explain why Legilimancy and Occlumency worked, Harry had a feeling this wasn't quite correct. "So what is the other explanation?"

"Well.. it could be that the original inventors of nEMP designed it not only to neutralize human thought, but also magic. They knew _exactly_ which stars to pick out from an unimaginable large universe."

The suggestion sounded so impossible. From Zhang's explanation, it would be truly impossible to find a needle in a haystack that covered the entire world. Yet it had been done. This led to one, very uncomfortable conclusion.

The people who invented nEMP knew about magic, and developed a weapon to counter it. Who would ever do such a thing? His descendants? "Professor… have you found out who originally came up with nEMP?"

"Easily, although it didn't tell me much. It was the culmination of a large project between different research groups within the Exploration Society. A very accomplished transhumanist led the project. His name was… let me check." The professor picked up his datapad and inputted a few commands. "A Dr. Elris Malcour."

'_Mal..cour?_' Harry mentally repeated, wondering why the sounds echoed familiarity. Then his face ran cold as he realized why. _'Malcour.. Malfoy-Delacour. Somewhere in my family tree those two branches met.'_

It was ridiculous. A very naughty descendant of his invented the ultimate bane against magic. _'Why?'_

Then, another thought came up. _'The Delacours were Veelas. Gabrielle's daughter.. she went grey.. the kid knew something vital.. I lost control with her. But I'm pretty sure she was the only Veela I touched since their race avoided conflict.'_

Then, unless Harry's offspring had married other Veelas before the extinction (and he doubted it, since the dark witches were snobby purebloods mostly), there was a _very_ good chance that Star was a descendant of him, Draco and Gabrielle.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur. Harry left the sample of a plant and ordered Scranton to bring it back to life. He then passed his family tree scroll to Zhang and tasked him to figure out a way to digitize its content. It was annoying if he would have to roll the scroll a few thousand kilometers just in order to go far enough up the tree.

After Harry wrapped up the meeting, he left the medical bay immediately and headed back to his quarters. The wizard originally intended to make Star feel at home before he asked her questions, but it seemed an interrogation could not be delayed. He had to know what his fucking grand-grand-thousand-times-grandchildren were up to. _'Why the fuck did they invest in something that destroys magic? Why would they betray their blood?'_

The corridors echoed his footsteps hollowly as Harry's thoughts grew darker. One way or another, Star would give him his answers.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	42. II: New Possibilities - Repost

April 7, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_New Possibilities_

* * *

Magicals still existed in this age without magic. Harry's family tree already confirmed it. It felt so good to finally rid humanity from their twisted cousins. Now Harry learned it was for naught, because he provided the muggles with another set of monsters from his own indiscretion. His own descendants dared to meddle with muggle society! How could they? Rage fizzled in his mind as the wizard stomped over to his quarters and opened it without a thought.

His little pet lounged on one of the couches, reading the news on a spare datapad. Upon Harry's entry she immediately set it down and came at attention. "Master?"

His response came immediately. He held out his hand and grasped it back. An invisible leash appeared, which flung Star down on the floor by the neck.

"Ooph!"

As Star recovered, Harry took the seat left by her and stared at his pet. While he liked to have her naked, her inhuman beauty distracted too much of his crew. Therefore he reluctantly had a custom white vacsuit delivered to her which showed off all of her curves, particularly her chest. He sat and enjoyed the view.

"Um, master? What is it you wish of me?"

"It's high time you tell me who you are." Harry ordered after a while. "You can start with your name."

Having known this moment would come, Star sighed. "My name is.. Michelle. Michelle Delacour."

"Delacour, huh?" That meant there was a high chance she was the direct descendant of Gabrielle. "Do you by any chance know the Malfoys or the Malcours?"

Her eyes widened. "H-How do you know those names?"

"I knew of them long before you were born, whelp. I'm far older than I appear. In fact, by my guess, every one of the people bearing those names are my descendants, including you."

"I.. see." The tale sounded too preposterous for Star to believe, but then she connected his story to the legends she learned in her youth. She let out a gasp. "You! You're.. you're Harry Potter! The Great Destroyer! The Progenitor!"

"Is that what they call me nowadays?" An amused smile tugged his face. "Well, it's better than the boy-who-lived and derivatives."

"They always told us that you never died, that you would eventually return, but I never thought it would be now!"

"Who are 'they'?

"The.. elders." The blond Veela fell silent as she held to her remaining loyalty to her benefactors.

"Tell me more, or do I have to pry it out of you!"

Star knew Harry could do many horrible things to her in order to make her talk. _'If he's really the Great Destroyer.. then he can wreck untold destruction in the solar system. He won't let a single field agent like me slow him down.'_

"My apologies, master. My family.. is very large. We have hundreds of relatives who are affiliated with our lineage. The elders keep our traditions alive and teach us how to use our 'gifts'."

"So there are more Veela out there who can use the allure?"

"Not all of them can use it to the same degree. Only women can.. and a handful at that. The others take up other valuable positions within the family, such as running businesses, participating in politics, or dabbling in research."

"Ah, such as Elris Malcour."

She nodded, not bothering to ask why he knew the name. "The Malcours are very gifted in leadership. Elder Elris had a knack for gathering people with different talents and combining them into unheard results. The invention of nEMP is one of our greatest accomplishments."

Harry suddenly kicked at Star's chest. "Great? You call that Great?! Why in the world would you hand the muggles a weapon that could neutralize all magic?!"

"It wasn't my decision, master! A few hundred years ago or so.. we.. we were losing."

"I have a feeling there's a big story behind all of this. Start at the beginning."

So she did. As a relatively junior member of the family, she didn't know that much, but what she revealed was disconcerting enough. The Malfoys and the Delacours were much more than just a family – they were a collection of humans with enough magical energy in their blood to sense and manipulate certain magical objects. Squibs, in other words. Those with the talent were kept in the fold and were trained to use their gifts while keeping the family tradition alive. For Star, that meant learning how to use her allure to the fullest.

"The Delacours are adept at seduction, while the Malfoys have a talent in control and manipulation. A long time ago in our history, the Delacours made an alliance with the Malfoys in order to bolster our numbers and create a branch family that has the potential to use the talents of both. Ever since then, our three lineages are permanently allied to each other."

"Why do you need to be allied? Are there.. others who you oppose?" Harry feared for the answer, but already knew it would be true.

"Yes.. there are many lineages out there who have retained the knowledge of who they were. My lineage is based in Mars. I'm sure Jupiter has their own lines who are descendent from the Progen—, you. We don't know the full extent, however. Your blood has been diluted to such a degree that we cannot track those with the gift through DNA."

"Which other lines are you aware of, then?"

"Only a handful, many of which I'm not authorized to know. There is only one other lineage that I'm aware of, and that's because they have been our eternal enemy. They.. they're based on Earth."

The mere mention of the planet made Harry sit up in shock. He looked at Star like a hungry beast. "Tell me.. tell me their lineage. From which of my victims are they descended from?"

"The line who are based on Earth are.. the Bones."

Harry stayed silent for a long time as he processed the information. Not only were many of his descendants thriving in this new age, they also squabbled among themselves like spoiled children. As squibs, their true magical power paled in comparison to his own, but they still retained enough of a spark to use their inborn abilities and perhaps a few other benefits that magic provided.

"And the nEMP? You couldn't survive your petty war without it?"

Star nodded reluctantly, fearing another backlash. "The Bones line are in control of Earth, the only repository of ancient relics and knowledge. Many of the more recent Earth-Martian Wars were actually motivated by conflicts between our lines. Control for Earth and access to the relics was at stake. When the last war ended, the Bones gained enough power to influence the Terran corporations to seal off Earth completely, letting their family have unfettered access to the relics. In order to stave off a future attack and survive whatever the Bones might throw at us, the Malcours developed nEMP technology and made sure to distribute it to the rest of the solar system."

So the Malfoys and Delacours were sore losers.

"So this is what the replacement of the Wizarding World has degenerated into. Waging war on the pickings of a dead society."

Now that the descendants of Susan Bones had gained a measure of his magic through his eye, Harry knew the status quo couldn't last. They would eventually find a way around nEMP now that they were in the possession of true magical power.

'_While they will still pay for the theft with their lives, perhaps they might come up with a countermeasure against nEMP. I shouldn't move too hastily.'_

"I have learned enough. Thank you for being open with me, Star."

"My pleasure, master."

Harry then zipped down his pants to reveal his obvious interest. "Now come get your reward."

* * *

The _Immortal Marauder_ didn't linger on Venus for long. The captain itched to get back to Io as soon as his scheduled surgery would pass. That meant they had to get ready in two weeks.

Yet the remaining obstacle that stood in the way of their swift return was the prohibitive cost of a passage through the Gravitic Catapult. Venus charged about two-hundred-and-fifty million universal credits, a bit cheaper than what the pirates charged, but still a significant sum. While Venus was a very pleasant planet, Captain Harry did not want to waste an endless amount of time coming up with the required amount.

Fortunately, Star offered a very generous solution once she heard of the problem.

"I have a lot of discretionary funds at my disposal." She stated as Harry explained his worries to her over bed. "When you caught my benefactors' interest, they tasked me with bringing you into our fold. They provided me with enough credits to pay for a passage through the Gravitic Catapult and anything else that could be used to buy you in. I.. I don't have that much left in my accounts though, if my benefactors haven't already cleaned it out since my lack of contact."

When Harry let Star check her accounts, they found out she still had just over two-hundred million. Harry immediately pulled out all of it and transferred it to his own personal account. After giving Star another reward (a big one this time that she pretended to appreciate), he slept off the night and occupied himself with gaining the remaining fifty million. While he could have easily paid it from his reserves, he was loath to draw the amount.

He had several options at his disposal. The most obvious way was to dip into his vast collection of magical items and auction a few of the most valuable looking objects. Heck, Harry could even take his useless Galleons and strip them of their magic before selling them as antiques. Modern dating methods would reveal them to be very old, which would fetch the owner a very handsome price.

'_Hmm.. but if I reveal the Galleons, some of the surviving lines on Venus might take note. I can't afford to reveal myself to any more of them or they might just take advantage of me just like the Bones line.'_

The second option was to earn his credits the legal way, which he already discounted since it would take too long.

'_Then.. the final way is to do it illegally. With my magic, it won't pose as much of a risk now that I regained measure of my strength. Even with half my magic, I'm still more than a match against some muggles."_

He ordered Claris to seek out opportunities in the Venusian underworld and waited. As she had already cultivated some rudimentary contacts, she only needed a few days to find some lucrative opportunities. She presented one of them to him directly.

"Steal a prototype weapon from a biocorp research lab?"

The commander nodded. "A certain crime syndicate would love to have the latest version of a military tranquilizer that's rumored to be untraceable. It would give them an edge for several years until a countermeasure is developed. The base is heavily guarded though, so it's a high risk job."

"Did they specify how much noise I can make when I make a grab for the prototype?"

"They want it to be quiet. If they suspect an outsider has stolen the prototype, it will cut our pay in half. They also don't want the theft to be traced back to them, so if they find out that they're getting blamed, they'll rat us out."

"Hmm.. that's not a problem. Actually, it will be better that way, since it will be easier for someone else to take the fall."

"Oh? What do you have in mind, captain?"

"I think some persuasion is in order." Harry cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Get me a list of their top men in this research base. I need accessible targets."

The task proceeded dead simple from there on. While the research base was located on a restricted island on the surface of Venus, many of its members frequented the nearby town that serviced the base. Harry simply sneaked in the homes of the security chief and head researcher and Imperiused them to his will. Then it became a matter of waiting outside the base while his temporary minions slipped out a sample of the prototype along with its design specifications.

"Thanks a lot, pals." He then gave them a pair of pulse pistols. "Now shoot each other."

Hopefully the evidence would point out that the two had an argument over dividing the spoils and killed each other in the fight. Harry made sure to leave no trace on the island, not even footprints by hovering just a few inches over the ground. Magic did come in handy.

After delivering the materials and receiving a generous reward, Harry had more than enough money in his coffers to pay for another passage. He just needed to undergo his eye surgery first.

Dr. Scranton accompanied Harry to the exclusive Valentine Medical clinic just outside the capital city of Venus. As they entered the clean white interior of the facility, the receptionist referred them to Dr. Grace. The Asian woman received them with practiced ease.

"Welcome to Valentine Medical's premiere optic lab, my lord. I am Doctor Anita Grace, the head doctor of this facility and your lead surgeon during the operation. Let me take you to the lab room where the final preparations for your enhancements are made."

The pretty doctor led them downstairs while answering questions from a curious Scranton. All the while she gave them a short tour of the facility and its many functions.

"Now here is where your eye is finalized." She said and entered a very heavily guarded door.

A handful of techs in cleansuits worked meticulously on the eye behind a safety barrier. Nothing penetrated the isolated area, keeping it free from dust and germs. Harry stepped as close to the transparent glass as he could, eyeing his new organ appreciatively. "It's not at all what I imagined. I was expecting something more.. metal-like. You know, like in the movies, all iron and red glowing pupils, if you know what I mean."

Grace chuckled. "Oh, that's just what we do for our cheapest models in order to encourage our customers to upgrade. Our most finest eyes are encased in a very fine mixture of crystalline and classified extrasolar materials to produce an almost authentic eye tissue appearance. We say 'almost' because the eye is actually much more durable than it seems. Your entire skull will burn first before there is even a scorch mark on the ocular implant."

"So how long will the surgery take?"

"Oh it depends heavily on your eye injury, so if you will let me take you to the preparation room, we can get it all sorted out for you. The operation will be a relatively quick and painless experience if you fit the common type. Follow me."

A team of nurses then proceeded to take his vitals and prepare him for surgery. He let them tinker in his eye-socket for quite a while, which discomforted him a lot.

"Is this going to take much longer?" He growled.

"We are almost finished scanning." One of them said, then continued along.

At least he could ogle their generous bosom with his remaining eye. _'The clinic probably hired them because of that.'_ He grinned and blatantly let his eye pass over their figures. The nurses didn't even appeared to notice. _'Yup. They have great customer service here.'_

After that it only took a few hours for the surgery team to interpret the final results and prepare for the actual event. Dr. Grace visited them at the waiting lounge once their preparations had finished.

"Since you appear to be one of the common types we can proceed with surgery immediately. This is your final chance to back out. Do you wish to withdraw and have the surgery at another time?"

"No. Let's do it now. I want to enjoy my new eye."

"Right this way then, my lord."

The procedure went quick and painless. With Dr. Scranton watching over him from the observer side, he let himself be tranquilized and operated on. He heard it would take about four hours to modify his eye socket to accept the implant, then another hour just to put the artificial eyeball inside. After that, a different team spent two final hours testing and calibrating the eye to make sure all the neural connections worked as intended. Only after that did the medics revive him back to consciousness.

When Harry woke up, it was immediately apparent that everything became different. He opened both of his eyelids on instinct, only to feel a sharp spike from his new left eye.

"What the! It's too bright!"

He immediately closed in and covered it with his hands. A pair of nurses immediately came to his help and passed him a glass of liquid. As he swallowed the foul-tasting solution, he quickly felt the pain begin to numb.

"Ugh.."

"Do not worry about this reaction, my lord. Half of our patients experience an information overload the first time they open their eyes. Your eye should have adjusted by now and automatically restrict the amount of options you can run simultaneously. If you can hear me, my lord, then I want you to close your natural eye and open your new one."

As Harry trusted the voice and slowly did as she told, he found out the world looked much different than before. He looked around in amazement. Everything looked.. clearer, more vibrant, and best of all, sharper. He shifted his gaze to Dr. Grace and could immediately trace all of her pores and creases in her skin. Some automatic overlay immediately appeared and highlighted her in a white outline. Some basic information appeared to the side. _Female human, employee of Valentine Medical, distance, estimated age, blablabla. This is quite handy actually.'_

"Wow. This is amazing."

She smiled. "I see that the eye is working to specifications now. I still recommend you to rest here for two days while we extensively test and train you on its most basic functions. We will be examining its augmented reality, spectrum, zooming and social enhancement functions, since those are the ones you will use most often. The rest you will have to learn in your own time, as their features are rather niche to cover with general instructions."

"No problem. Now show me how to use them."

"Gladly." Grace replied as her own eyes glowed. Harry hadn't noticed it before, but now that he got his new eye, he identified Grace's own orbs as artificial.

"You.. you already replaced both of your eyes!"

"Why not? The benefits are too great to ignore, and having two enhanced eyes allows for a greater amount of functions. Would you be interested in doing the same?"

"I'd.. rather not."

"You can return to Valentine Medical anytime you want if you change your mind." Her smile remained on her face as she guided Harry off the bed. "You'll receive a ten percent discount if you do."

Besides the constant prodding of replacing his limbs with other artificial substitutes, the lessons proceeded smoothly, and Harry quickly got the hang of using neural commands to control his eye. He could now see much better than ever before.

* * *

When Harry was finally released, it became a struggle not to ogle at everyone. The nurses at the clinic were bad enough, since it was their job to be stared at, but the eye candy at the transit terminals was far more numerous. He felt himself zooming in on their chests and discretely using his image capture function to save them in his library. The augmented reality function of his eye obediently displayed the women's cup sizes, and other juicy data besides. _'I wonder if Dr. Grace ever uses her eyes in this way. Fuck, she probably got a good look at me.'_ Not that he particularly disliked that possibility. _'I hope she thinks I'm hot.'_

Then, Harry remembered his eyes had another function, and shifted into x-ray mode. His pleasure increased tenfold, although he had to be careful not to look at some of the less pleasant looking people. _'Even in the future, fat people still exist.'_

Sadly, he quickly had to turn the function off as he boarded the shuttle. The function drained a lot of power, and the eye only worked off of bioenergy.

As he entered his ship, he met Cleveland first. When they greeted each other, Harry found himself activating the social enhancement functions. The augmented reality overlay shifted from displaying general information to more specific things like heartbeat, perspiration, and the more useful indicators of emotions, nervousness and even a truth indicator.

"Has the surgery been successful?"

"Yes.."

The two chatted on a bit more while Harry let his eye analyze Cleveland's patterns. It showed him to be relaxed, comfortable, slightly happy and completely truthful. _'It's like I'm a Legilimens now. Neat.'_

As Scranton waved his goodbye, Harry decided to visit the bridge next in order to test his eye out on Claris. When she appeared in his view, his mind almost blew away.

'_Damn, those hotties at the hospital were juicy, but Claris is gorgeous.'_ His grin turned slightly perverted as he activated his x-ray briefly, only to turn back to normal once he realized military grade vacsuits blocked his scan. "Ahum, yes Claris, the surgery performed successfully." At least Harry was still free to zoom in or take pictures. Her skin was marvelously unblemished.

"Then, if you wish, shall we depart for Io? We can book a passage now and boost out of the station to be ready to leave in about four hours, sir."

"Sure. I'm dying to return to Io. Oh, and Claris?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Why can't my new eye get a good read on your emotions?"

Claris smirked slightly. "Many people are aware that implants and cameras can read human behavior. Some people undergo training in order to minimize the signals our body sends that reveal our intentions. If I were you, I wouldn't rely too much on your eye's predictive functions. A skilled negotiator can send out false signals in order to make you believe a lie."

"ah.. the doctor never told me that. Thanks."

His eye told him Claris was horny as hell but also angry and constipated. Perhaps he should have gone for the executive model.. but then he'd miss out on his current model's military functions such as predictive aiming or tracing the locations of gunfire. _'Too bad they couldn't cram both features in a single model. Perhaps that's why Grace implanted two eyes.'_

Harry didn't want to rely too much on augmentations though. Having a normal eye also prevented him from being blinded by a single nEMP attack.

"Very well. I'll be in my quarters."

"Captain."

Oh yes, there was one more thing he could test his eye on. As he entered his cabin and ordered Star to strip, he let his latest toy take a _very_ good look at Star. _'Time to see how this functions in bed.'_

* * *

The transition was as eventual as always, even though Harry had experienced it twice before. His new eye gave him some interesting.. insights. It frizzed up a little, actually, displaying nothing but colorful static before turning back to normal. _'It's probably my nerves trying to readjust from the sensations.'_

The transition took only about three-and-a-half hours, which Harry occupied by walking his pet. Harry made Star put back her clothes (it wouldn't do to provoke his crew) and pulled her around the ship with his magical leash. The officers were a bit distracted as they gave their reports, but nothing went amiss. After that, he went by the mess and ate the chow the house-elves prepared, making sure Star got something to eat as well from a bowl off the floor. He finally ended his tour by entering the bridge and seating himself on the second captain's chair.

"On my lap, my pet."

Pulling Star onto his lap was a bit difficult since the chair wasn't designed with such a large pet in mind, but Harry managed. He then idly stroked her hair while speaking with his Second. _'Hm, the social enhancement still tells me she's horny and angry along with a dash of regret. I got to get a replacement if everyone else is able to fool me so easily.'_

"Since your firm has been doing well these past few months, we can now dock at their new enlarged repair yard. Captain Rysa told me that it's specifically designed with the _Immortal Marauder_ in mind. You'll be able to put all the enchantments you want on the ship with absolute privacy."

"Good. I've already done quite some work with my wandwork but if I want this ship to become truly invincible, I have to go over the entire hull. With all the improvements I have in mind, she'll be a much different ship than before."

He chuckled as he reviewed some of the options. The wizard wouldn't simply make it tougher this time. He had spent over a month devising new uses for his magic, and as soon as he returned to a dock he planned to make the _Marauder_ a fortress.

As they fell out of transition off the perimeter of Io, they were met with the usual security checks before a surprised admiral established a communications link.

"Captain Harry! You've returned.. alive as well I see." His brow furrowed as he noticed the captain petting an attractive blond woman on his lap. "Our monitors on Earth have all said something momentous has happened there. I hope for your sake you bear no responsibility on any of them. If I find out you were the cause of the plague that ravaged Britaan…"

'_Wellesley probably already made up his mind on who's responsible, but as long as he doesn't have proof, he can't act.'_ Harry simply maintained his smile throughout Wellesley's tirade. "It's probably just the results of a corporate war, admiral. To create such a devastating virus would require state-of-the-art facilities. It's much more likely Venus is responsible for it than someone affiliated with us."

"Hmm.. I suppose you're right. In any case, report to the fleet headquarters at the military station for immediate debriefing. Do not forget to bring your.. cargo. Wellesley, out."

Harry enjoyed just five seconds of silence before Amande practically screamed on the new comm link.

"Harry! You've survived! I _knew_ you'd make it!" Her reaction to Star was much more hostile however. "And.. who's this?"

"Just a pet." Harry replied as he held his smirk. If Amande objected to him having fun with other women, well, that was her loss. "She's nothing important."

"Oh.. well.." Amande muddled through her next words as Harry analyzed her through his ocular implant. While Wellesley revealed absolutely nothing except for disgust when he saw Star, Amande was a bit more confusing. Her mood seemed to swing wildly from disappointment to elation to greed to jealousy. It eventually settled to contentment as she calmed down. "In any case, the company has been doing _extremely_ well. Captain Rysa can give you the details, but with the revenue we've made so far, I'm dying to expand Firestorm Solutions. Shall we discuss it over dinner once my cousin is done with you?"

"Sure.. but schedule it at the military station. I have no patience to shuttle to Antares Station today."

She sighed. "Very well. I'll just have to cancel afternoon's meeting then. I'll see you later then, tata, my dear."

As the _Marauder_ approached the military station, Harry noticed they were docking at a new repair yard. The facility looked like an outgrowth from the rest of the station as its paneling hadn't aged as far as the rest of the station's hull. The hangar doors opened smoothly to admit the _Marauder_, revealing the expansive interior inside. It looked cozy, as if he returned right at home. Already a few vacsuited repairmen directed the clamps that put the ship in place as she shut down.

"Docking is complete." The helmsman called. "The reactor is shut down."

"External power-link confirmed."

"Proceeding with defueling now."

A small message arrived at Harry's terminal. He read it quickly. "Hmm, looks like the navy gophers are ready to drive me to the fleet headquarters. Claris, can you handle it from here?"

"Of course, captain."

"Then I'll leave you to it." He shoved his pet off his lap and left the chair. "I'll probably be out for a day, maybe two. Please ready the ship for extensive modification. We'll be staying here for a while until I'm completely satisfied the ship is a killing machine."

Claris saluted as he left, leaving her behind with longing. _'He always asks me to take care of the less exciting details. Sometimes I feel like I'm his butler.'_ She cast her gaze on Star. _'Perhaps it's better this way.'_

"I suppose I'll have to escort you to the captain's quarters. It's not safe for you to be walking around alone." Captain's pet or not, Star's natural beauty along with her provocative clothing would ensure she'd be raped along the way if she was left unescorted. Claris offered her hand. "Come now."

The woman simply eeped and backed away. "I'll be fine!" Then scampered off alone.

Watching the frightened girl leave, Claris shrugged and went back to her work. "Weird."

Meanwhile, as Harry retrieved the case of blood samples, his thoughts were already on his next targets. The changes he intended to make would turn the _Marauder_ from a hybrid cruiser into something incredible. But mixing that much magic with complicated technology was sure to produce unintended consequences. Before he risked his ship at Earth, he needed to test her out. It all depended on what the Ioan Navy thought as a priority. Hopefully, they wouldn't be averse to raiding his preferred target. Callisto had fucked him once – now he had an opportunity to fuck it back.

'_I'm coming, Selner.'_

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	43. II: Unintended Consequences - Repost

April 9, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Unintended Consequences_

* * *

The debriefing occurred in a much more pleasant environment this time. Instead of guiding Harry to the bowels of the headquarter, Admiral Wellesley opted to summon Harry to the very top of the structure and conduct the meeting at his office. As the wizard entered the richly paneled chamber, he cast an appreciative eye at the old traditional art. _'Not like the abstract junk the future calls masterpieces.'_

"I like your taste." He complimented sincerely as he gazed upon a genuine Rembrandt. How funny that it survived after an entire millennia. Preservation technology must have advanced by leaps and bounds in order to preserve the priceless artifact.

"Thank you." Wellesley responded warily, as if expecting a snarky comment from the unruly captain. "I have a particular fascination for paintings created before the advent of photography. There is a certain.. timeless quality to them. Artists devoted their entire lives to reproduce a reality. But despite their best efforts, they can never equal nature."

A silence swept in the office. The admiral finished his remaining work, then handed something to Vanmar, the admiral's aide. The lieutenant-commander approached Harry and held out his hand. "The suitcase, please."

He wordlessly handed the case containing the samples of blood he extracted from the Terrans. Vanmar immediately cuffed himself to the case and left the chambers in a hurry.

"I believe you owe me a few hundred million credits."

"Have patience, captain." Wellesley waved his hand as he checked something off his data terminal. "Our research department needs time to verify the.. authenticity of your samples. It would be quite unfortunate if they were to discover the blood came from random Ioans off the street.."

"You doubt my accomplishment?"

"No-no. The intelligence reports on Earth were quite clear. Something momentous has happened there, and I cannot help but think you are responsible. I merely wanted to have proof."

"What will you do once your lab geeks confirm what you already know?"

The admiral paused and finished his work. Closing the terminal, he leaned back on his chair and sighed. "My dear Captain Harry. Let me be frank with you. I do not enjoy your company, nor your penchant for trouble. Chaos seems to follow in your wake no matter where you go. Tens of millions of people died from a mysterious plague on Earth and I _cannot_ help but think you are responsible! How could you, a mere captain, wrought so much destruction using highly illegal methods that would surely bring the might of their fleets on our colony!"

'_Ah, so that's it. He's afraid he'll take the blame.'_ Harry's ocular implant tried very hard to get a read on Wellesley, but it seemed that even when he was heated, he revealed almost nothing. The only emotion that radiated off of him was rage.

"Wellesley. I'm not responsible for the plague." He lied as smoothly as he could. "It's just a coincidence it happened during my stay there. I'm completely certain that nothing will be traced back to us."

"You better be right, captain. If the Terrans come knocking at our door, Io will not protect you. The penalty for war crimes is universally enforced."

"Yes yes, whatever you say."

"At least take your job seriously!" The admiral admonished Harry. "The Ioan Navy is an ancient institution that has guarded the colony and its citizens from the predations of the solar system. Countless of men and women have dedicated their very lives for their nation. I will _not_ have you sully our ideals with your uncouth behavior."

"I'm not in the navy." Harry answered calmly. "Officially, I'm a privateer who happens to fly your flag. You're welcome to fire me if you wish, but I'll keep the ship no matter what you do."

Wellesley's face stayed impeccable, but the wizard figured he seethed inside.

"You are a beast, Captain Harry. It is better that you wear our leash."

"Oh, about that. I have an idea for my next target. I'm going to hit Callisto directly."

"What!? With your cruiser?" The idea sounded preposterous to the fleet admiral. As one of the four great lunar colonies of Jupiter, Callisto was every bit as well defended as Io and Europa. A single cruiser, no matter how well armed, could never hope to deal any damage.

"Hey, I survived Earth. I'm sure I can handle whatever Callisto will throw at me."

"You do appear to have a penchant for surviving odds that would kill a regular man." The admiral didn't feel very pleased at that fact. "Very well, I'll have my aide compose a list of priority targets. If you manage to destroy or cripple any of them, you'll receive a bounty. It's high time we show those Callistoans how much Io and Europa outmatch them."

Harry didn't stick around to chat. After undergoing a quick health check (and subsequently revealing his artificial eye), he left for his dinner meeting with Amande.

Unknown to the wizard, Wellesley smirked. He first had a very hard time dealing with the vulgar cretin. His mere existence was a blight on the name of his House. However, word of the events on Earth and news of his survival had shown him the dangers of making an enemy out of a wildcard. Captain Harry might be a little troll, but he was also damn hard to kill.

That was when he resolved to use Harry's ability to cause chaos to its fullest. While the admiral preferred to strike at one of the established pirate bases, attacking Callisto directly had its own benefits. With the alliance between Io and Europa slowly deepening, the politics of Jupiter was shifting.

Captain Harry formed the perfect catalyst for conflict. He was loud, brash and expendable. Letting him perform the tasks that his regular men found too risky was an excellent use for him. All the credits the captain received for his services were meager crumbs compared to the benefit he provided to the nation and his office.

'_The Terran blood samples alone will fetch billions of credits.'_ That the greedy boy voluntarily parted with all of the samples only highlighted the captain's sheer ignorance in matters of importance. He was, quite simply, unfit to command.

That made him a dangerous tool to use. If Harry continues to get thrown at impossible odds, only to come away with it through sheer stubbornness, then his prestige and wealth would certainly grow up to a point where it was too large for anyone to rein him in. A leash was only as strong as its wielder, and Wellesley feared that Captain Harry would eventually break whatever influence Io had on him. _'Well, it's not as if I'm without means.'_

If Harry truly went out of control, then Wellesley could always leak the captain's involvement to Earth.

* * *

Harry found the restaurant that Amande chose a bit more sensible than last time. The menu features a list of vaguely recognizable Italian dishes. What he didn't expect was that her wife brought guests.

"A pleasure to meet you again." Lord Terrance greeted him as he arrived.

His wife Lady Victoria greeted him as well and lifted up the toddler sitting on her lap. "There's your savior, Annabelle. Aren't you going to thank him for healing you?"

The child grew up quite a bit these past months. She filled out remarkably and boasted a healthy set of cheeks. Annabelle took one look at Harry though and cowered in her mother's embrace. "Scawwy."

"You have to excuse her a little." Victoria apologized as she stroked her daughter's hair. "She's terribly shy."

"I.. I wasn't expecting guests, Amande." Frankly, Harry was eager to talk confidential business with his spouse. Having guests along prevented him from talking freely about magic.

"They're our business partners." Amande answered calmly as she motioned Harry to take a seat. "They've taken me under their wing, so to speak. Their patronage has helped us a lot. They were responsible for most of Firestorm Solutions' initial orders."

"You do good work maintaining the vessels of Antares Shipping." Terrance said approvingly, but then his expression soured a little. "Although I don't particularly like the recent price hikes."

"Demand is far outstripping our supply. We can't help but take advantage of that."

The two chuckled at each other before taking a seat to order a meal. Harry recognized enough of the terminology to order a decent pasta. Amande went for a salad while their guests ordered something more elaborate.

As dinner was served, each of them chatted about their businesses. Firestorm Solutions was quickly making a name for itself in the area of quality repair and maintenance. Under the advice of Terry, Captain Rysa started to target the upper segment of the market, offering pricy but complete solutions. This earned the company a great amount of revenue while preventing it from being overrun by orders. Harry understood the strategy. They only had a limited amount of house-elves to effect repairs. _'Hm, I should probably start thinking about getting more of the creatures.'_

"How is business going at your end, Terrance?"

As the head of Io's premiere shipping business, Terrance faced a lot of uncertainty concerning recent developments. Io's growing alliance with Europa was changing the status quo, opening up potentially new trade routes but also antagonizing the two remaining lunar powers. The heightened tension between the four Jovian moons had a depressing effect on trade.

"The persistent pirate attacks are bad enough, but full-blown raiding will cut us off from our mining colonies. Our navy doesn't have the numbers required to protect our corporate interests in Jupiter's asteroid belt. If the conflict heats up to total war, then we'll see many corporations go bankrupt I'm afraid."

"Then why push for an alliance in the first place?"

Lord Terrance sighed deeply. "You have to understand why we let the previous situation persist. Thirty years ago, Mars recovered enough from the last Terran-Martian war to begin expansion in other territories. They have a great hunger for extrasolar materials which the inner asteroid belt doesn't provide in great quantities. That is why their corporations had begun to colonize the Jupiter Outback. Since none of the Jovian powers can afford to wage war directly on Mars, we resorted to.. unusual methods."

"You let piracy fester." Harry said, having already heard some of the tale before.

"Indeed. The pirates allowed us to scare off foreign competitors without taking the blame. They don't cost us anything except for the handful of raids on our own assets."

"So what changed?"

"After thirty years of unchecked rampage, the pirates have become too powerful. Their main base has grown to epic proportions, and they even managed to build their own Gravitic Catapult. The dominant pirate faction, the Callistoan Maffia, has quickly grown to become Jupiter's fifth great power. Under their direction, raids on our assets have increased to unsustainable levels."

"I see now. You let your attack dogs grow too big, and now they're biting the hand that feeds them. Are you planning on putting them down?"

"That is one possibility we have secretly discussed with Europa. A full assault requires too much of our assets however. If the other Jovian powers receive wind of our attack, they will likely use the opportunity to wreak havoc behind our lines. We are still in a stalemate."

Harry understood Io's perspective, although he disapproved. The Jovian powers shouldn't have resorted to pirates in order to scare off Mars. Instead, they should have banded together and presented a united front to the fourth planet. The tremendous growth of the pirates in their territory was no one's fault but theirs. They just reaped what they sowed.

"You've picked a good business to invest in." Victoria said as she held out a spoon of dessert in front of her daughter. The giggling girl playfully took a bite of the jelly. "With the expected increase in hostilities, I'm sure that the military will start to flock to you. As for shipping however.."

The older pair looked grimly at each other. Bad times were coming for them. With everything moving closer towards war, many peacetime activities such as trade or the production of consumer goods suffered a decline.

"This is not a world where I want my daughter to grow up in. Harry," Terrance prompted, catching the captain's attention. "Can you promise me one thing? Will you do everything to prevent the war from escalating?"

Thinking on the raid he planned to undertake, Harry knew his actions would only serve to provoke. His implant detected a deep sense of sadness within the lord. He couldn't stand the sight and shifted to Annabelle. The little girl had no idea what the adults were talking about. Her innocence radiated clearly from her happy but oblivious face. Harry didn't need his implant to tell him that she was content. _'But will she stay that way when war comes to Io?'_

"I.. see." Terrance shook his head and cleaned his fingers with a napkin. "Just like my dear brother Wellesley, your opportunities only lies in war. I cannot blame you."

Dinner ended quickly after that, and the older couple quickly said their goodbyes. Harry led Amande back to a taxi.

"I still have further business to talk about." He told her. "I'd like you to come by at Firestorm Solutions tomorrow."

"Sure, Harry." Lady Amande held out her hand. "But won't you come back with me to a hotel? I haven't seen you at all for so long, so don't dare go back to your ship."

Harry hesitated long enough for Amande to grab his hand and drag him inside the vehicle. "Don't worry, we'll stay at a hotel on this station. You don't have to waste your time transiting back and forth."

'_Why do we even bother to carry on this charade.'_ He wondered as Amande chatted about politics.

* * *

It was high time Harry checked his company. After having a comfortable breakfast with Amande, they visited their headquarters. He had already glimpsed the hangar, but the attached company headquarters was a sight to behold. He even felt the subtle reinforcements of house-elf magic. _'Quite impressive. I'll need to expand these protection charms as soon as I have time.'_

As he entered the reception, the secretary immediately stood up. "L-Lord Harry! Lady Amande."

He didn't recognize the employee. In fact, he didn't recognize any of the office workers milling about. "I wish to see Rysa. Is she available?"

"Of course, my lord. Let me call ahead. You can enter the elevator to the top level, it will take you straight to her office."

Nodding, Harry rode the elevator upwards. It opened to the executive level of the office. He had to go through a series of security checks before he ended up at Rysa's office. _'At least she takes security seriously.'_

"Welcome Captain Harry. Lady Amande. Please, take a seat." Rysa said. As the pair took a seat across her office, Rysa summoned some refreshments. As the attendant left the room, Harry started.

"I've come here to get an update on how the company is doing. Can you tell me the results of what you've accomplished so far?"

"Our business is doing well and our reputation is growing." Rysa activated the holoprojector and displayed some of their financial statements. "As you can see, our profit margin have grown to enormous proportions, since we are able to repair very quickly and forgo the requirement of purchasing replacement parts. In order to allay suspicions we deliberately purchase more materials than is strictly necessary. It also provides the house-elves the opportunity to rest. We don't want to use them up."

"I've heard from Amande that you have started targeting the upper segment of the market. Will this be sustainable?"

The CEO nodded. "Io is a large nation. There are plenty of ships in need of repair. We offer services beyond the capabilities of other repair yards. Those who are willing to pay a premium can have repairs done in either record time or complete renewal. Many trade ships tend to break down at a predictable rate, and if they linger too much in repairs their owners risk nonperformance on existing contracts. Terry has priced our service just enough that using our facilities is preferable to paying the penalty fee for nonperformance."

"That's very shrewd of you, and I can see how this arrangement makes the best out of a limited quantity of house-elves. Do you need more of them?"

"We could always use more, but.." Rysa trailed off. "We have attracted some unwelcome attention. The other repair businesses envy our performance. They think we have a new technology or something of the like. Shady figures have been snooping around our facilities. Having too many house-elves increases the risk of discovery."

"I'll start improving the wards as soon as possible. It shouldn't be too much of a problem to screen out those who intend to spy on us." Harry took a sip of tea from the refreshments offered. "On another subject, I've noticed that a lot of our office workers are.. new. They don't bear the mark."

"A necessary evil." Rysa replied. "I underestimated the amount of paperwork that is required to run a business. Most of the spacers you transferred under my command are grease monkeys, not datapad pushers. You should not be too concerned. Our new hires don't have access to the repair yard proper. I have no doubt there are several spies in our midst, but they won't find anything incriminating in our paperwork."

"I.. see. You have it under control, it seems." Yet it still left Harry a foul taste.

Rysa sensed Harry's displeasure. "I do not very much like this situation either, but you can't always be available to induct new members with your Mark. If you intend to expand your corporation, you will have to learn to take on employees who are still expected to live normal lives."

The older woman was right, as much as Harry hated the logic. Even Amande agreed. "We have to expand our company, Harry. The repair yard is doing well but we can grow so much more with magic. Firestorm Solutions has the potential to earn revenues in the billions, but only if we branch out of this segment."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, the capabilities of the house-elves are rather limited. We don't have a lot of opportunities, but I was thinking we can go into the scrapping and refurbishing business. We can buy wreckages, repair them cheaply, then sell them into the open market at generous prices."

The idea had some potential, Harry thought. Still, there were several problems. The speed and ease in which they would be able to repair the wrecks might attract even more attention. Another problem was that it entangled him deeper with Io. Ever since Lord Terrance had given him a picture of the state of affairs, the wizard was loath to depend too much on the Ioan economy.

What Harry really wanted was to become more independent.

"How much cash do we have on hand?"

"Erm.. the company has been reinvesting heavily, so we only have about eighty million credits. The holding company is worth almost five-hundred million in assets."

"Hmm.. and I have about a hundred-and-thirty million credits in my bank account." Harry ran the numbers. It wasn't nearly enough for what he had in mind. "I have an idea for a new investment opportunity, but we don't have enough credits on hand. Rysa,"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I want you to stop reinvesting the profits into expanding the company. Pay it out as dividend to me."

"Yes.. sir." Rysa acknowledged, though her face was beginning to show cracks that Harry clearly sensed.

"You have a problem with that, Rysa?"

"No sir."

As the senior captain calmed down, Harry nodded and went on to other matters such as the state of the crew and their biggest customers. Harry eventually asked all the questions he could and parted ways with the two women.

Now that Harry finished all of the official stuff, he could finally start with his real work. He spent all day with his ship, planning out his improvements.

* * *

Claris yawned as she entered the hangar bay. The coming work on upgrading the _Immortal Marauder_ occupied everyone on the ship. The preparations needed to crack open up the ship in order to allow Harry access to her innards required delicate planning.

She entered the fighter bay of the ship only to see that a handful of officers were already present. The commander spotted Deadman and the three other strike craft pilots, along with Professor Zhang and a few lieutenants.

The captain himself was also present. He waited for Claris to come closer before he began with.. whatever he had in mind.

"Good to see you up and early. I've worked very hard to think on how to improve the _Marauder_. Some of the changes are going to be quite radical, so I shall demonstrate them to you first and let you have the opportunity to give your expert opinion. The safety of our ship is at stake here, so I expect you all to be truthful and honest in your assessment."

Harry then walked over to a table and picked up a large rectangular crate. It was a standard air-tight model, used to carry provisions or medical supplies. The captain set it down to the ground and opened the top.

What he did next was outright bizarre. He put his feet inside and _sank_ right into the crate until all that was left was his head.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come inside."

Practically everyone was stunned. After realizing how embarrassing she looked, Claris shook her surprise and followed after Harry. When she reached the crate, she saw that the interior did not match the exterior at all. "H-How is this possible?!"

"Astounding." Professor Zhang said as he followed right after her. "The dimensions clearly do not match. He put a foot in the stairs inside the crate and slowly eased it down. "I feel that my right foot is actually lower than my left foot, but in normal terms that would mean it sank in the bulkhead. Clearly this is not true."

As everyone ooh'ed and aah'ed over the strange crate, Harry gestured them to step further inside. What they encountered was an impossibly large empty space.

"This was a common phenomenon in my society. Wizards were able to create tents or trunks that were much larger on the inside than on the outside."

Zhang immediately raised his hand in question. "Sir, if I may ask, what happens when these items are destroyed?"

"I haven't actually seen it myself, but I've read what is supposed to happen in some of my books. There are two types of expansion charms which operate in a similar manner but have different effects when the enchanted item is destroyed. The crate we entered is one of the first type. If something happens to destroy it, the crate would cease connecting the outside world to this space. Nothing bad would happen inside, of course, but whatever is stuck in here will never find a way out."

The revelation frightened most of the attendants. "Then why show us this, if it is so dangerous?"

"Because it can have other exits." Harry waved his hand and another stairway appeared. "Follow me."

As they exited the crate, the procession suddenly found themselves on the bridge.

"Amazing." Zhang muttered as he examined the crate that Harry had placed on the bridge beforehand. "You've created a pocket dimension and connected entry points to it. What is more astounding is that the distance between the two crates do not correspond with the distance between the two stairwells. Is there any limit to the range of this.. thing?"

"There is, sadly. The first crate that I expand is the primary entry point. All the other crates are secondary points which will cease to work once they go out of range from the primary point. If there were no limits, I could theoretically place two crates on the opposite side of the solar system and travel back and forth instantly. As it is now, I can barely cover the entire ship."

"So what is your intention regarding this device, sir?"

"I've ordered special vacuum-sealable crates that I will be installing throughout the ship. It will provide everyone with shortcuts and, in the event of decompression or boarding, a quick escape from danger. I also plan to install a series of vents throughout the ship that will hopefully hold out long enough to redirect explosive blasts into a harmless pocket dimension so that they will not damage the rest of the ship."

The gathering discussed a few more possible applications and complications. The design of the entry points and vents merited special attention though, but Zhang and Menzies agreed to draw up suitable plans.

"You've mentioned there is a second type of expansion 'charm'."

"Yes. I don't have a demonstration on hand, but the principle is simple. Some wizards didn't like losing all of their stuff if one of their trunks happened to be destroyed, so a few ingenious enchanters came up with a variation of the expansion charm. Basically, if the trunk becomes nonfunctional, everything it contains will be violently expelled."

This had an obvious application. It was a good and safe way to transport large amounts of bulk from one point to another. Harry himself carried a few shrunken trunks in his pockets in case he needed to pull out a reagent or reference a book. But beyond transportation, the offensive uses were also clear.

"We can stuff a torpedo inside with large amounts of high explosives."

"I don't see much use in that." Zhang said. "Torpedoes are already powerful in themselves. The main problem with torpedoes is their lack of guidance and limited agility."

Harry had another set of remedies to handle the speed issue. He briefly explained the effects of his speeding and weight reduction charms.

"Is it possible to place those same enchantments on the entire ship?"

This caused the group to explode with ideas. The mere potential was astounding. But Zhang was the first to spot a flaw.

"These modifications.. will the ship be able to handle the stresses? A reduction in mass might entail a reduction in strength. It would be problematic if we push this effect too much and risk collapsing the ship. The _Marauder_ inertial dampeners also have a hard limit in the amount of g-forces they can handle."

Harry hadn't thought about these limitations at all. He didn't have the scientific mindset of Zhang. "I suppose I will have to test it out first. Will you be available later in the afternoon to figure out the ramifications, professor?"

"Certainly."

For the next demonstrations, Harry showed how a piece of paper could be enchanted to mitigate or absorb different types of damage, from solid projectiles to heat. While effective, the absolute strength of Harry's charms and wards was limited due to the limited scale of their design. Ancient Egyptian wards that deterred all but the most determined curse breakers wouldn't last long against a Class X beam laser. The magicians who designed the wards only ever considered the human scale.

After finishing with the protection magic, Harry demonstrated a few smaller, but useful effects. He had charms to suppress fires, to maintain a bubble of air in vacuum, to regulate temperature and block out harmful radiation, to divert lethal sparks of electricity, and to set out traps for intruders. The wizard finally wrapped up the meeting.

"As you have seen, I've got a lot in store for not just the _Marauder_, but also our strike craft." He nodded to his pilots. "I can make them stronger, faster and safer. However, I've never worked on something on this scale before, and many of the advanced charms may interfere with the workings of the ship. I will need all of your help to make sure that what I do will not endanger the _Immortal Marauder_."

Everyone worked industriously after that. While Harry first worked on reinforcing the outer plating, he had his subordinates work on the other changes. Many things needed to be designed or modified. Some of the crew also had to investigate the precise effects of a specific charm and find out their limits.

Another remaining issue was how to deal with nEMP. While the _Immortal Marauder_ carried a double layer of EM-resistant plating, they had to plan for contingencies where some of Harry's enchantments might be negated. If disrupted, charms that reduced the weight of the entire ship might cause her weight to be distributed unevenly and have a catastrophic effect on navigation. Worse yet, an nEMP strike on the ship's torpedo chamber might unravel the expansion charms of the enhanced torpedoes and flood it full with high explosives. Everyone had to think up creative solutions for these eventualities. For example, Zhang suggested that the enchanted torpedoes be stored in a type-1 expanded storage crate.

Thus began a long process of two months of steady expansion and repair. Those who did not involve themselves with the upgrading process either trained in simulations or helped with the recruitment effort. For the coming raid on Callisto, Harry intended to use the full capabilities of his ship. For that, he needed a full crew.

The days were long and the work was hard, but Harry felt his efforts were worth the time. The solar system hid many threats. By himself, his options were limited. But with an enchanted ship, a full crew, and a position of power, Lord Harry Antares was a force to be reckoned with. In earlier times he might have been able to get away with a few displays of magic, but in this future era, scale was the primary determinant of power.

Sometimes, he doubted his course of action. Perhaps instead of wasting time with his ship, he should have stayed on Earth and combat the hidden magical threat that nested there. But if Harry had done so, he would have never learned about the Bones line or all the other lines.

Zhang had finished scanning and organizing the contents of his family tree a month into the upgrading process and the results were illuminating. While the family tree did not reveal where his descendants were born or where they were located, he could nevertheless identify clusters where the extended family intermingled with each other in order to keep the blood strong.

He identified thirteen lines. Abbott. Bones. Carrow-Macnair. Delacour. Greengrass. Krum. Love. Malfoy. Malcour. Weasley. Yaxley. Zabini.

And Black.

Harry's eyebrows rose at that. Then he realized that the tiny Black line was an off-shoot of the now-extinct Parkinson line.

Putting the names through the public registry took a long while, but he received some solid hits. Harry had a solid fix on the locations of each of the lines. Jupiter only boasted one line. The Blacks had a significant presence in Callisto but they also had many pirates. Then the captain realized it. _'Admiral Black is the head of the Black line.'_

He hadn't thought much about Admiral Black, figuring it was just an alias. Naming his children in other colors such as Grey or Green reinforced that thought. But the head of the Callistoan Maffia and the owner of Trindebal Station was definitely aware of his magical roots.

'_Now, the real question is how much the Black line is knows about magic.'_

The revelation complicated his planned raid on Callisto. If he were to attack the colony so brazenly with a ship so strong that it had to be enchanted with magic, Harry risked exposing himself, presenting the Blacks with an open target.

Then he thought it didn't matter. _'These fuckers took Selner away from me.'_ Harry wasn't afraid of the Black line. He had already seen the might of Trindebal Station and detected virtually no magic. While it might be possible that Admiral Black had something nasty hidden away, the wizard wasn't too concerned. If he couldn't defeat this small line, he had no chance against the Bones who were doing Merlin knows what with the other half of his magic.

'_I hope whatever the Bones line is cooking that it will take them a while to get the hang on my magic.'_ While a bit too optimistic, Harry hoped that his descendants on Earth might need a few years to cast the more advanced magic. If it took seven years in Hogwarts to achieve mastery in a subject, then it would certainly take that bitch who stole his eye a similar amount of time.

Of course, Harry might be wrong in his assumptions. The line might not use his magic in the traditional way. He himself could come up with numerous different ways to take advantage of his energy.

'_I haven't made any effort to hide my location, so they probably know how to track me down.'_

He knew that the Bones line could come and assassinate him any time they wanted, but they didn't. The wizard suspected that they needed him alive in order to utilize his magic, but surely they also knew that the current situation couldn't hold. Harry would come for them eventually and take back what was his. That they just let him go despite knowing that meant that they had something else in mind. _'What is their plan?'_

Somehow, he had a feeling that whatever the Bones line had planned would be big.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	44. II: Absense of Vision - Repost

April 11, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Absence of Vision_

* * *

Lord Wellesley stepped calmly inside the office of the most powerful man in Io. The summons had come in the middle of a strategy session. Despite his pressing obligations, Wellesley knew he couldn't refuse the call. He dropped everything he had on his agenda and shuttled over to Antares Station as fast as he could.

"Wellesley, I'm glad that you could make it." A finely garbed lady motioned him to a nearby couch. "Please, have a seat."

"Anastasia." He greeted as he paid his due respect for his elder sister. As the prime minister that headed the government of Io, the woman was incredibly formidable.

"Ah, my children. I see you have all arrived." An older man stepped into the room then. His grey hair and his solid composure bespoke of absolute strength. The heir to the current Dictat took the remaining seat around the coffee table. "I have summoned you two at my office because there are disconcerting matters to discuss."

"Father?"

"It has recently come to my attention that there is an attack planned on Callisto."

"That is.. true. Our most recent addition to the House has some designs there. I do not know why Lord Harry is adamant about attacking Callisto, but—"

"But what!" Lord Halcyon interrupted his son. "An open attack, even a raid, is a clear provocation of war. Do you really expect the Callistoans to endure a direct attack? When I made you the supreme commander of all of our military assets, I expected you to use the autonomy I have vested in you wisely. Gearing this country up for open war is _not_ what I had in mind."

"With all due respect, father, I know what I am doing. I have commissioned extensive analyses on each faction's war readiness and all of them point out that we are at an advantage. The longer we stall, the more the Callistoans and Ganymedians can catch up. The Callistoans after all have one advantage the others powers do not have: a tacit accord with the pirate factions."

"Wellesley is right on this matter." Anastasia followed up. "The Callistoan Maffia is the dominant power among the pirate factions, and they grow stronger each year. Already we are experiencing a slow decline in trade as the great corporations have started to redirect their businesses to Callisto. My forecasters predict a recession for our economy if this situation is allowed to continue."

"I expected more from you, my daughter. Just because the Callistoans are winning economically does not mean that war is your only option."

"We have tried the diplomatic option. The pirates won't receive us and I doubt Callisto can rein them in."

"Then we have to keep trying. War should be our very last resort." Lord Halcyon spoke. He thought of his own brothers, and how their lives ended in conflict. "Io has not seen a war in many years. That is a blessing."

Wellesley disagreed intensely with the sentiment but chose not to speak out. While an anti-war policy was admirable, it would not help Io in the long run. Lord Halcyon and Dictat Leopold were too haunted by the past to see that weakness in the face of intrusions turned Io into a bigger target.

The fleet admiral glanced at his sister, who nodded slightly. While Anastasia did not hold as much enthusiasm for their current course of action, she recognized the necessity of standing firm. She wanted to rule over a strong and prosperous nation when the time came for her to take the position of Dictat. It had taken Wellesley many years to chip away at her reluctance for aggressive action, but he had finally managed to sway her just a little bit over to his camp.

"Father," The lady started. "I respectfully disagree. Our soft stance and complacency has led us into a downwards spiral. I have already expended much effort into our diplomacy, but the simple fact is that we are negotiating from a position of weakness. A show of strength will tell the other powers that we are willing to use force to get our way."

The three argued extensively for the next ten minutes. In the end, none of them were able to reconcile their differences. While Wellesley advocated for total war, Anastasia was merely content to confine the conflict to a few fleet actions. Lord Halcyon disagreed with the necessity of any military action.

It appeared they arrived at an impasse. Halcyon sighed deeply. "I see that you two are committed to this course. I hate to resort to this. As the House elder and the heir to the Dictat, I invoke my authority to order you two to cease further escalation."

Halcyon's son and daughter took the news without surprise. Wellesley had already expected this course of action to happen. _'That does not mean this will be the end of it.'_ He nodded to his father, acquiescing to his command.. for now. The fleet admiral had long made plans for this eventuality and he was confident his father would not anticipate them all. While Lord Halcyon might be the Dictat in all but name, as long as he did not formally adopt the title, Wellesley had enough leeway to act against his father. Only the words of his grandfather Leopold had the power to bind him, but everyone knew the old fart was at the end of his life.

As their father dismissed them, Wellesley and Anastasia walked their way out of the palace together. As soon as they entered the prime minister's personal limousine, they spoke freely.

"I take it that you have a scheme in mind to circumvent our father's command?"

"Something of the sort." Wellesley shrugged, and took out a bottle of liquor from the minibar.

"Whatever you're cooking up, I hope it won't be traced back to us."

"Oh, have no fear, my sister." He offered a glass to Anastasia, who accepted it with grace. "If my predictions are correct, I hardly have to lift a finger."

"Sounds interesting."

* * *

Magic was capable of impossible feats. As Professor Zhang held out a credit cube that Harry had cast the 'feather-light charm' on, he was amazed how the object managed to maintain its strength despite its negligible mass. He also had a different cube enchanted with the 'Wingardium Leviosa' spell, but that was less interesting as it worked similar to gravitic technology.

Making the _Marauder_ weigh just twice as less meant that she could accelerate and rotate as swiftly as a destroyer. Actually implementing the spell throughout the ship was a bit more daunting, however. As the inertial dampeners that negated the heavy g-forces involved in acceleration had a hard limit, the ship could only go so far. Still, what Harry achieved was admirable.

The professor looked around his lab with pride. The captain hadn't forgotten him when he designed the ship. The state-of-the-art equipment that the _Marauder_ boasted made the pitiful instruments the _Eviscerator_ possessed at her prime paled in comparison. Some of the pirates missed the _Eviscerator_, but Zhang didn't bat an eyelash. With an entire lab, he could finally work in earnest on solving the mystery of magic.

Although he only skimmed the surface of this incredible power, he had already formed a few solid observations. If he wanted to, he could write up an article and publish it. _'But do I want to?'_

The question gnawed at him for months. What did Zhang want? Knowledge? Power? No. He didn't crave knowledge for the sake of knowledge, and he couldn't care less how many underlings he had. What he really wanted was recognition. He wanted his name to be in the annals of history as the first person to unlock the mysteries of magic. That was true immortality. Just publishing the scraps of his first forays would certainly spark the scientific world into a new revolution and cement his place alongside great figures such as Newton or Maxwell.

But he couldn't. Not yet. His results were too tenuous. Besides Harry's insistence on secrecy, Zhang's results had too little backing. No one would believe him except for crackpots. He needed more decisive proof.

The professor sighed and put down his work. Perhaps a bite might clear his head. He left the lab and traversed the immense ship upwards until he reached the mess. Taking a tray, he sat down at an empty table.

A handful of other officers ate nearby. Zhang noticed they looked much younger than the average crewman. In fact.. they looked barely out of their teens. _'The new ensigns.'_

They looked so young. Enough to be his children. His heart skipped a little. _'I was always too busy to marry.'_ That was his one regret in his life. To achieve a professorship and maintain it for ten long years required his entire dedication. The competition was cutthroat, and as soon as he let up on his work, the others would pounce on him. A normal family life wasn't in store for him. As he watched the young men and women laugh at some bawdy joke, he wondered how the hell the crewmen managed to convince them to serve aboard the _Marauder_.

They quickly noticed his stare and his lack of anything that resembled a uniform.

"Hey, who's that dude?"

"Mercury if I know."

"I've heard about him." One of the few girls spoke. "It's that professor dude."

"You mean the one that ranks just below Claris? How in Mercury does that work out?"

The gathering shushed their discussion as they noticed the professor listened in on them. It was rather nice that they paid their respects to him, but the truth was that Zhang relinquished much of his power to Claris. Unlike Selner, he had no ideals worth playing politics. As long as he was able to study magic in peace, he was content. While the other officers and crewmen still obeyed his modest requests, he really had no place in the ship's command structure.

Even away from academia, he still ended up alone. As, His former colleagues back at the West-Jovian Institute of Technology, Zhang could hardly call them his friends. _'Besides, they're the ones who condemned me to death or slavery.'_ Just thinking what Harry had in store for them when the _Marauder_ headed to Callisto made him excited. Finally he would have his just revenge.

But these ensigns.. they were too young to waste their lives away on this forsaken ship. He knew almost as well as Harry how fragile the _Marauder_ was, even with all the enchantments placed on her. The young officers were at the prime of their lives.. yet they were brought here anyway. Who was responsible for their recruitment?

"A question, please." Zhang spoke out, and instantly the ensigns went still. He smiled at that. "Why.. have you signed up with this ship?"

It took a moment for the first one to respond. "It's a cruiser. Even if the _Marauder_ is a privateer, low-ranked officers like us will never get another chance, sir."

"And you?"

The boy next to the speaker hesitated. "Well sir, I don't have connections like those nobles have. I didn't know how hard it was to get a ship posting until I graduated from the academy. It's either support or privateer.."

'_Don't these boys know that a desk job is the best there is?' _Zhang thought as the other men and women revealed their reasons for joining. They were young, naive and hungry for glory. They had no idea how horrible combat broke people down. "What do you feel about Captain Harry?"

Opinions were decidedly mixed. "I never knew transhumans existed!"

"He's strong. I don't mind serving under him. He's better than any other commanding officer I've served with. He'll be an admiral in no time."

"The captain is doing what the real navy should be doing! I have no regrets joining up with him!"

A few were decidedly less enthusiastic, but Zhang figured they didn't want to speak bad of the captain in front of a senior officer, even if he wasn't really one. Still, what he heard was disconcerting enough. They were too awed by Harry's charisma or accomplishments to get around the fact that people tended to die around him. Serving under the wizard for life wasn't a mere long-term combat assignment. _'Yet I can't tell these youngsters otherwise.'_

For better or worse, only personal experience could teach them better. Zhang only hoped enough of them still lived to pick up the pieces.

The ship suddenly shook, startling everyone out of their skins.

"What was that? An accident?"

"A simulation? That can't be right, there weren't any drills scheduled for today."

"The alarm hasn't sounded yet, so it's probably nothing."

* * *

"How dare they!" Harry cried as he slammed his desk with his fist. "They have no RIGHT to deny me from attacking Callisto! I've been cooking this up for two months and now they suddenly change their minds!?"

"I'm sorry Harry." Lady Amande spoke as soothingly as she could over the comm link. "But we have to obey Lord Halcyon. The elders of our House has always been against another war. There aren't many other Houses who support aggressive action either, so we don't have the political power to overturn the decision. I'll try what I can, but.."

"Those.. those fuckers!" He cursed, and harshly grasped Star's hair. The woman whimpered, but knew better than to speak out. "I'll kill them!"

"Harry! Don't ramble like that! It won't do you any good. Do not forget that the House of Antares is your family now. There are some of us who don't agree with Lord Halcyon and they're doing everything they can. Have patience."

How could Amande just tell him to wait? Harry had a right mind to stomp over the palace and _Imperius _whoever stood in his way. _'Too bad it will look too suspicious if they drop dead after a week or two.'_ He slowly let his temper ease. Amande was right. Venting his frustration like this wasn't productive. He needed to consider options.

His pet looked up anxiously at him. Smiling, he released her hair and pointed downwards. "Footrest."

The attractive woman nodded and went down on all fours, presenting her bare back in front of him. Harry leaned back in his seat and rested his foot on Star's back. His other foot played with her dangling flesh. The wizard was glad to have a pet. Star was everything he could ever want for a companion, though even she couldn't stack up to Hedwig. If he had a choice between the owl or the fuckpet, he'd go for Hedwig any day. Sadly he couldn't get everything he wanted, so he had to make due with a pretty Veela.

As he toyed with his pet, Harry considered how to deal with Lord Halcyon. He heard from Amande that he was the most powerful political figure of Io, the dead set heir to the ailing Dictat. Harry knew very well how bad he was at convincing people, and he had no chance to make a deal with someone more pompous than Lord Wellesley.

'_Why the hell do I need their permission anyway? I can just disembark and leave whenever I like.'_ He had a letter of marque. It was his job to go out and harm the enemies of Io. No pacifist wimp can deny him that. _'But if I leave without a word, they'll probably assume I'm heading for Callisto anyway. I need.. something. A cover. An excuse. Something that will allow me to leave for Callisto.'_

He reached for his comm terminal. "Claris, please come up to my quarters."

His Second only had to walk a short way from the bridge to reach his quarters. The hatch opened to let her through. His impeccable officer paused as she saw Star, but Claris quickly recovered. "Reporting as ordered, sir."

"Have you heard about Lord Halcyon's directive?"

"Amande has sent me a message. We are prohibited from entering Callisto's perimeter and engage in any hostile actions there."

"I need a way to get what I want. Do you have any suggestions?"

Claris paused as she considered the situation. "I.. perhaps. But Amande won't like it."

"My wife doesn't need to know. Now tell me your suggestion."

"Sir.. I know enough about Ioan politics to know that there are many nobles who are against another war. You can.. discredit them if you show their stance is foolish. You could arrange something drastic, such as a terrorist attack, and plant enough evidence to suggest Callisto is behind it. It probably won't convince all of the pacifists, but if word gets out to the public, most of them will clamor for retaliation."

Harry grinned. "I like it. Use the public against the politicians." Then he frowned. "The only problem that remains is making such an attack credible. I doubt Lord Halcyon is stupid enough to believe Callisto would resort to terrorism."

"You're correct in that. Nations tend to avoid civilian casualties. A terrorist attack probably isn't a good idea."

"So we'll just have to strike a military target then. A shipyard, or better yet, a ship."

"You should be very careful about that." Claris warned him immediately. "The majority of our crew now compose of Ioans.. if they get wind of your intentions.. well.."

"I see your point." This presented a serious obstacle to Harry. Unlike the public, his crewmen all knew he had magic. If something serious happened to Io, the spacers were bound to suspect their captain. He couldn't afford to lose their loyalty. "I need to change public opinion without anyone, especially the crew, suspecting my involvement."

"Perhaps you could stage an attack on yourself or your assets. You're controversial enough to be a legitimate target."

"That's.. that's an ingenious idea." Harry leaned forward and beckoned his pet to him. Star obeyed and rested on his lap. "But I doubt anyone would care if I get hurt."

Claris curled her lips. "What if you had Amande with you? An attack on a blood member of the House of Antares is a serious provocation."

An attack on him, with Amande as collateral damage. The idea had merit. "Massage me." He ordered, and Star quickly sat back, zipped down some clothes, and embraced him with her generous body. Soon enough she slowly eased up and down, letting the friction do the work. Harry leaned back and enjoyed the incredible sensation as Claris watched on impassively.

"Alright. I'll somehow arrange an attack on me while I'm out with Amande. I doubt the public would care that much if only us were hurt, so I'll make sure we're out somewhere public with lots of bystanders around." This still left him many challenges. He had to stage an attack meant for him, have lots of people hurt but somehow make sure it wasn't considered a terrorist act. On top of that he also needed to avoid the suspicions of his own crew.

"Harder." He growled, and Star put more effort in mashing her flesh against his hot organ. She stared up at him, using her allure to make him more excited. Harry liked the excitement of her stare. "That's it, go on."

"Umm, captain? If you have no need for me.."

He waved Claris off. "You've been very helpful. I'll call you if I need you again."

The commander saluted and went for the exit as Harry moaned from Star's ministrations. Her nether regions were starting to itch again. _'He doesn't even care if I watch him play with his toy._' It bothered her to witness Harry fooling around with other women. Claris didn't envy Star's position, but at least she could comfort Harry. _'All I have is my vibrator.'_

Even though she had modeled the pseudo-organic tool from extensive scans of Harry's tool, it just didn't beat the real thing.

* * *

Lady Amande was surprised Harry finally agreed to go on a public relations tour. She knew the boy detested such activities, but she continued to pester him anyway in the hopes he would come around. _'Looks like it finally paid off.'_ She thought when she smiled in front of the holocameras as they stood in front of a clinic for disabled people on one of Io's less prosperous stations. The locale wasn't as well kept as Antares Station, and frankly she couldn't stand all the rust and lack of hygiene. But the noblewoman dutifully kept her smile as her husband kept to the script.

"I know how hard it is to rise up from adversity. When I see these worn out men and women," Harry waved at the gathering of patients. "I see the seed of myself in all of them. No matter how rich or poor they are, each individual carries the potential to contribute to society. I sincerely hope that my modest donation to this wonderful establishment will enable each of them to find their places in life."

The clinic had been his idea. Amande originally wanted to schedule an event at a school on the same station, but Harry somehow objected to it. Why he insisted on a disabled clinic she didn't understand. It just wasn't as glamorous as a school of downtrodden children.

"Good job, Harry." She whispered to him as he finished the speech and handed over a symbolic check to the director of the clinic. "Now we'll just have to mingle with the patients and let the press take sympathetic images for the evening news."

"Do we have to? They've got more than enough pictures of me already."

"But not with the patients, dear. Now come along and show off your _noblesse oblige_."

Harry stayed tense throughout the exchange with the grateful patience. Even when Amande curled her arm with his, he never relaxed. _'Does he hate being here that much?'_

Something dropped before their feet. Before Amande could twist her head, Harry suddenly yelled "Grenade!" and pushed her away. The explosive burst out a second later, peppering everyone with heated shrapnel. Most of the clinic's patients didn't stand a chance. Their cheap vacsuit models offered virtually no protection against a weapon designed to pierce Class I armor. Harry and Amande only survived by virtue of top-of-the-line suits, but Amande didn't boast the magical protection that Harry carried. A piece of shrapnel managed to penetrate her hip.

Intense pain flared from her lower body. She screamed and tried to reach for her leg, only to burn her fingers from the heat of the piece of shrapnel that lodged between her legs. Amande tried again after she had her suit form gloves and barely succeeded in pulling it out. The frayed fabric around her wound quickly closed. The various chemicals that the suit injected her helped to deal with the pain, but didn't close it out entirely.

"Shut up!" Harry said as he held out his pulse pistol. "Whoever tried to kill us is still out there. Can you walk?"

The lady nodded, if barely. Harry dragged her behind a tree and used it as cover as he scanned the clinic's courtyard. Many of the press who weren't wounded in the blast had retreated to safety, but a few were stupid enough to stay and film the proceedings.

A volley of pulser fire then cut through the remaining crowd. A pair of blasts hit the tree as well, forcing Harry to pull back.

"We know you're out there, Captain Antares!"

Another grenade landed near the tree, and the pair was forced to relocate as it exploded again. Amande cried out as Harry tugged her harshly into the interior of the clinic. "I thought we had guards! Where are they?"

"They're likely taken care of already." Her husband murmured as he looked at his pathetic pulse pistol. "I didn't bring along my combat gear and I can't show off my magic with so many cameras focused on us."

"Then what do we do!" The woman panicked. "I don't want to die!"

"We won't give up on you, you fucking traitor!"

A rocket then blew up the front of the clinic, engulfing the receptionist and a janitor. Harry managed to pull her far enough inside to escape most of the damage. He continued to drag her along however.

"Why are we heading further inside! More people will get killed!"

"They'll catch us if we stay out there." Harry growled as they traversed the kitchen area. "We need to stall them before the station's security forces arrive."

"That will take too long." She whined. "This is one of the poorest stations in Io. They're ill-equipped. Can't you use your fancy m—"

Harry abruptly slapped his palm on her mouth. "Quiet, woman! There's cameras everywhere."

They went on until they finally reached the back exit. When he opened it he was instantly met with pulse fire. They ducked back inside.

"Looks like they're not in combat gear either." Harry noted as he peeked from a window. "I see some hovercars parked outside. We can make a getaway once we get past the pair outside."

Somehow, Harry managed to outsmart the guards outside with the help of some discrete magic. Amande didn't know why a dog of all things suddenly appeared to snap at their attackers' legs, but Harry used the distraction to put a pulse bolt in their heads. The momentary victory allowed them to enter one of the parked cars.

"Let me." Amande leaned over the steering wheel and inputted a special command programmed in all of the hovercars on Io. The car recognized the emergency executive command and unlocked completely. "I'll have to teach you all of the codes sometime."

"We can worry about that later once we get out of here." Her husband said and he used the controls to pull out unevenly and sped away from the zone. Pulser fire instantly traced their car.

Amande looked back to see three more cars following theirs. Several attackers fired out of the window at them. "Mercury! They're following us." A few pulse bolts hit their cheap vehicle, damaging it further with each additional hit. "We won't last long if it goes on like this!"

A shot hit a key part of the car's gravitic engine. They suddenly swerved in their flight. "I can't hold my course! I've got to land it!"

The captain managed to crash their car onto the roof of a shopping mall. They exited the car and went down the stairs into the dingy mall that had clearly seen its best years.

"What are you doing! There's a lot of people here! They'll die in the cross-fire."

"I don't have another choice. Now do you want to live or not?"

Pulse fire continued to dog at them. Most of the bolts hit the screaming shoppers. The whole mall went into alarm as Harry hurriedly kept running. Some of the security guards stayed to fight off the pursuers, but they were no match to combat-hardened warriors.

"It won't matter how many bodies you put between us, captain!"

"Who are they? Why are they after you?" Amande whispered as she desperately followed after her spouse.

"It sounds like they're pirates. When I betrayed the pirates and joined up with you, I imagine I pissed off a lot of people."

"But how could they slip past our security checks?"

"Beats me. Perhaps they had help."

The attackers were too heavily armed to have been supplied by one of the local criminal gangs. An outside force was at play. _'A corporation? Another nation?'_

Whoever they were, staging such a brazen attack on them would never be tolerated. With so many bystanders dead, Io could never let this attack go unpunished.

Sirens suddenly sounded out. A heavy hovervan crashed through the transparent entrance and skidded to a stop. The van's doors opened up and heavy troopers spilled out. "Lady Antares! There's another van outside! Come with us!"

The majority of the armored forces went out to combat the attackers. A few stuck back to escort Harry and Amande outside. One of them even took Amande out of Harry's grasp. Her carrier used his enhanced strength to quickly traverse the distance to their transportation.

"We've retrieved the VIPs." One of them transmitted. "Roger that. We're going out."

The hovercar quickly boosted away towards the nearest security base. A few of their attackers pursued them, but the pulse turret mounted atop the van quickly forced them to retreat. Amande finally relaxed as she was escorted to the infirmary to get her leg wound treated.

"It looks like we got off alive." Harry said as another doctor tended to his superficial wounds.

"Aren't you bothered that so many citizens were killed?"

"I'm used to it." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm much more interested in our attackers. I'm pretty certain they're pirates."

In the end, a military task force went to pick them up and escorted them to the military station. Lord Wellesley was so concerned about her safety that he dispatched an entire cruiser squadron to cover their shuttle ride. Their escorts brought them safely to the fleet headquarters without incident.

They sat in Wellesley's office as the fleet admiral was away with a meeting with his subordinates. A holochannel displayed the gruesome news, picturing the carnage the intruders had wrought. Wellesley finally came back, carrying a cup of hot beverage which he offered to Amande. "For you."

The admiral let his niece enjoy her cup for a minute before telling her the news. "Seventy-five men and women are confirmed dead. Hundreds more have sustained injuries, several of which will not make it past this day."

Amande gasped at the horrifying figure. She knew many had been injured in the crossfire, but hundreds? Harry rubbed her comfortably on the back. He appeared to take the news without emotion. Wellesley stared hard at the captain for a moment, only to find nothing. He turned back to his cousin.

"Amande, you've been hurt. Regardless of the true target of this attack, the fact that someone dared to touch a member of the House of Antares cannot go unpunished. We will appear weak if we let this slide."

She nodded, though she hadn't really thought about it. Her mind was still fixed on the blood-ridden images she witnessed earlier in the day.

"We've managed to capture a few of the attackers, but a surprising number have slipped away. The station is.. not as well-monitored as it should have been. Someone has been skimping on the maintenance contracts." Wellesley thought of the politicians, who constantly tried to squeeze the budget which led to these blunders. "In any case, we shall soon have a confession of who's behind the attacks. Preliminary identification all indicate that they are mercenaries, but that will certainly not be the end of what we will uncover."

"I hope you find out who's responsible." Harry said, and met the admiral directly in the eyes. "Because I'll be paying back the damage they caused a hundred fold."

Wellesley clenched his fist. After a moment of silence, he turned and went for the exit. "I will be briefing my sister on this situation. She needs to put out a statement for this attack. For now, I would like the both of you to spend the night here. Until we are certain the threat on your lives have passed, I will not allow you to leave the headquarters."

The two kept each other company as the news feed continued to drip more horrendous details. Amande felt her heart breaking up as she saw all of those wounded people shared their experiences before the camera. Some of them even started to blame Captain Harry for the chaos.

"It's not fair." She whispered as yet another person ran her husband's name through the mud. "They're saying it's all your fault for leading the attackers through all those crowds. You couldn't control where the hovercar crashed."

"Leave it alone. I never really cared for my reputation anyway. The public are just sheep."

"You don't know how valuable their support is!" She shouted, frustrated at how much this event ruined his prestige, and by extension, hers. "Without the mantle of a hero, it's much harder to get things done, you know."

"It matters little. If you care so much, then do something yourself."

Her husband continued to stay obstinate. A flicker of anger passed inside Amande as she failed to convince him. The boy was so ungrateful sometimes! He could never imagine how his goodwill allowed her to hasten the growth of their corporation, or call in certain favors that helped pass along recruits for his ship. Without her, he couldn't have done half the things he had done since his time here.

'_We're too different.'_ She concluded. Though they were promised to each other as partners, the lady felt she didn't connect with her husband. They didn't love each other or share their secrets. By Mercury, she couldn't even tell his favorite color. It was as if they were drifting apart. _'That's not entirely true. We were never close in the first place.'_

Most of it was her fault, Amande supposed. Harry had a violent temper, a vicious streak and wickedly perverted desires. As a proper lady, she just couldn't handle him. She pushed him away, but only because being together would bring them more harm. It hurt not having a companion in which she could share her life with. She had already resigned herself to this fate. For now, the relationship stayed professional. Harry only needed her to gain legitimacy, while she needed him to play a greater role in society.

'_But for how long will this last?'_ She knew that Harry was brimming with ambition. Despite the recent incident that tarnished his name, the captain was quickly becoming a fixture of Io by himself. Soon he wouldn't need her name anymore. While she could have lived without him just fine, Amande did not cherish the day they would part their ways.

Sighing, Amande pushed away her trepidation and hugged Harry closer. She was glad that Harry cuddled her back. The two enjoyed each other's company quietly until someone knocked and entered the office.

Lietenant-commander Vanmar hurried towards the pair and handed a strange-looking datapad to the lady. "An urgent encoded message has arrived for you, my lady. We've decrypted the first half. All it needs is your signal to unlock it fully."

Amande dutifully let the pad scan her bio-metrics. When the device finished confirming her identity, its screen beeped and changed to display a short text.

"What is it?" Harry asked cluelessly as his artificial eye tried to zoom in on the text. Somehow, the security features of the datapad prevented him from seeing anything but static. The pad contained specific security features that allowed only the authorized person to read its message.

"It's.." The young lady paused, shocked that she received such a message. "Leopold has summoned us both. The Dictat himself wishes to meet with us."

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	45. II: The Sandman's Wake - Repost

April 14, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Sandman's Wake_

* * *

The transit to Antares Station was a tense affair. The Dictat's own personal troops, the Whirlwind Guards, picked up Harry and Amande and escorted them to the Dictat under heavy guard. Harry had to admit the heavy brown-coated combat armor made for an intimidating sight. The Guards truly did not mess about when they made quick progress through the traffic and deposited them to a specialized shuttle. Even now, a pack of frigates escorted their swift shuttle.

Amande fidgeted in her seat. Even though the Dictat was her grandfather, she had never seen him in person besides the annual House celebrations. Even then, she was such as minor figure that Leopold hardly deemed to take notice of her. To suddenly receive a personal summons from the ruler of Io was a shock beyond belief.

"What's the big deal?" Harry asked as he started to get annoyed by Amande's nervous ticks.

"You don't understand, Harry. He's the Dictat."

"So?"

"He's.. he's the most powerful person on Io. Doesn't it bother you that he wants to meet us both?"

To be frank, the wizard was afraid the Dictat saw through his machinations. Harry had heard plenty of stories about the ruler's incredible intellectual prowess. In his prime, Leopold was a political typhoon, able to make friends out of enemies and friends into lifelong allies. It was under his direction that marriage into the House became an important tool to secure influence. The man had incredible foresight in predicting political upheavals or diplomatic upsets. No other person in Io was more formidable than a person who had been born and groomed for the position his entire life.

'_But he's an old geezer now.'_ He thought, recalling that Leopold celebrated his hundred-and-third birthday a few months ago. Rumors of his ill health had circulated for years now, and recently people began to suspect his sharp mind had taken a similar dive.

This was Harry's only advantage. The captain was under no illusion that he could equal a sovereign ruler of Leopold's caliber in his prime. But with all the widespread rumors of his ill health and occasional bouts of dementia, he had an opportunity to escape whatever Leopold had in store for him. He discretely fingered the spare wand he had built into his dress vacsuit. _'Not as powerful as the Elder Wand, but it's much smaller and more suited to delicate work.'_

The heavy notice-me-nots and other hiding charms allowed Harry to keep hold of his wand. The Guards predictably took away his pulse pistol and the hidden blade embedded in his boots, but Harry meant them to be found. It would have been more suspicious if he didn't carry any weapons at all, prompting the Guards to pat him down more thoroughly.

At that moment, one of the guards stepped in front of their seats. The newcomer wore a more elaborate variation of the combat suit. The person retracted his helmet, revealing the grizzled face of a combat veteran. "I am Commander Talon. I shall be your guide for the duration of this summons. Please listen carefully to my instructions. It is important that both of you follow protocol."

"Why should we?" Harry blurted out before Amande could stop him.

The commander wasn't amused. "Failure to abide by the protocol will merit your immediate execution. You have been warned."

The strict Guard officer then proceeded to detail the rules of their upcoming audience with the Dictat. Harry found the protocol to be awfully formal. He had to bow three times and wait for the Dictat to raise his hand before approaching him. He then had to kneel to the floor and press his forehead to the floor until the Dictat addressed him. He also had to stay on the Dictat's right side at all times and never ever stand taller than the Dictat.

Amande already knew about the rules and she didn't mind the refresher, but Harry had difficulty memorizing it all. _'Why the fuck does this Dictat insist on these stupid rules?'_ They virtually guaranteed each meeting proceeded stiffly and without warmth. He expected better from someone who was supposed to be Amande's granduncle.

A small light turned up. Talon looked at it and finished his impromptu lesson to Harry. "We are docking in two minutes. Strap yourselves in."

A different guard unit escorted them off the shuttle and into a heavily-armored transport. Together with a dozen escorts, the impressive convoy headed directly to the palace that housed Lord Halcyon and Dictat Leopold. The structure was an amazing work of architecture, blending ancient gothic influences with modern advancements in synthetics and crystalline alloys. The result was a golden marvel of almost sandcastle-like quality.

"Wow." Harry had seen the palace in the distance plenty of times, but up close the grand manor had an entirely different quality.

"Mind your step." Talon said, turning Harry's attention away from the exterior.

Harry and Amande had to endure two more security checks before Talon was completely satisfied they were unarmed. The Guard commander then led them to a grand hall on the upper level of palace. They finally arrived before the huge pseudo-wooden double doors that led into the throne room. A mythical retelling of Io's colonization was painted onto its surface.

"Remember the protocol."

"Yeah yeah, I know already. Let's get this over with."

"I kindly suggest you mind your tone, my lord. Overt verbal aggression—"

"—violates the protocol. I know already, so give it a rest."

Commander Talon looked Harry deeply in the eyes. Harry didn't back down from the challenge. Eventually the Guard tired of the interaction and turned to open the doors.

To step inside the throne room felt like treading into the domain of God. Harry felt completely overwhelmed by the majesty the chamber projected. The heart of Io lay in this room. Great paintings of past rulers gazed peerlessly at each other. Ancient weapons and armors were hung throughout the room. Other wondrous works of art were scattered about. All of them were marvels in themselves, but not a single work dominated the chamber.

That was left for the throne itself. The seat looked like a typical high-backed affair. Harry found it strange that he couldn't identify the material. Was it synthetic or metallic? _'Or could it be extrasolar in nature?'_

Amande bumped his side and whispered, "The protocol."

Oh that. Harry mimicked his wife's movements, bowing three times and waiting for the Dictat to make a move. Even from a distance the old man had an air of regal fortitude. Leopold sat on his throne with a straight back and an attentive posture. His heavy garments consisted of multiple folds that it was sacrilege to call it a vacsuit. Unlike other people's suits, his one didn't blink.

Despite the Dictat's piercing eyes, Harry felt it took three minutes just for the old fart to notice his visitors. The man raised his finger, finally allowing Harry and Amande to move forward. Dutifully they kept to the protocol, approaching carefully with their heads slightly tilted downwards and making sure to avoid the Dictat's blind side. When they reached the foot of the dais the two knelt down and bowed deeply.

'_C'mon you senile fucker, I don't have all day.'_

By the time the Dictat wheezed out a word, Harry had to put all his willpower in maintaining a pleasant smile. He probably didn't fool the Dictat anyway. Leopold looked anything but pleased.

"Granddaughter of my brother. I see you are well."

"The incident has not harmed me too much, Your Excellence."

"And you.. my new kin. I see you are.. also unharmed."

The wizard nodded but didn't dare speak anything else. Leopold didn't let up though.

"Mister Harry. I have.. a question. What does it mean to be an Antares?"

"Pardon?" What was this, some kind of quiz?

"I asked what it means to carry the mantle of the House of Antares. _Answer_ me son."

Harry had a feeling it was a trick question. Nevertheless he had to say something anyway or be made a bigger fool with his silence. "The Antares rule over Io. We command while the rest obey."

The monarch considered Harry's answer. After a minute's pause, he asked, "Am I a person who commands others?"

"You're the Dictat, sir. Isn't that what your job entails?"

"_WRONG!_" The Dictat bellowed with surprising force. "The Dictat is not the ruler of Io. House Antares does not rule over Io either. The _people_ of Io decide their own fates. I, the Houses and the elected representatives of this nation only exist to interpret the wishes of the people and mediate between the different political factions. We are nowhere near the sole rulers of this great state."

The answer the old man sounded absolute bullshit to Harry. Leopold must be completely off his rockers to suggest he was a 'servant' to the people. Everyone knew that the Dictat's words were law. If he ordered someone to be killed, then damn well the entire government would conspire to kill the unfortunate person. What Harry saw in front of him was a man who had the lives of billions in the palm of his hand. His lengthy reign and enduring achievements only showed how great of a leader he was for this country.

Yet Leopold didn't see it that way. "You do not understand, I see. Never before in my lives have I ever seen such _complete_ lack of wisdom of someone in my throne room. You are a blight upon the House that shelters and provides for you."

Now the bastard was getting cheeky. Harry wanted to slam his fist in the old geezer's face, but prevented himself from even revealing a tick of his true emotions. The Whirlwind Guards paid close attentions to his moves. Any wrong move and they would instantly skewer him.

"Since you are under the mistaken impression that my word is law, let me oblige you." Leopold coughed a sickly breath before continuing. "I, Leopold of the House of Antares, do decree the following, that—"

Harry knew whatever the Dictat had in mind, it would be extremely bad for him. He stealthily cast a wordless jinx that started another coughing bout. As Leopold slowly recovered, the wizard used the time to prepare for his next spell. He stepped a little closer and pretended to show concern, even if it broke a minor protocol.

"Your Excellence, I admit that I may not be the most charitable person in your House. Yet I urge you not to be hasty in your judgment of me." Harry waved his hands as if he was making his case. In reality, he lined up his wand. "To do so would be too _**Imperius**_ of you – exactly what you say you are not. Give me a chance to show you my worth."

As soon as his spell hit the Dictat, Harry knew he was in the fight of his life. While the ruler might not be a wizard, his willpower was immense. Even in his advanced age, his mind stood as tall as a fortress. Harry's weak aptitude for the Unforgivable made it hard for him to latch on the old man's mind.

'_I have to break his mind..'_ Discretely, Harry cast another spell, and instantly planted a lot of pain for the old man.

"The Dictat is under distress!"

The Whirlwind Guard changed their stance and went on guard. A team of doctors entered the chamber and went to the ailing ruler's side. As they injected Leopold with medicines and scanned his body with their instruments, Harry continued to barrage the old man's mind. _'C'mon you fucker, let me in already!'_ His attempts lacked grace and finesse. Every time Harry hammered against Leopold's fortress, the recoil spread throughout the victim's body, further aggravating the pain attack.

Guard Commander Talon went to Harry and grasped his arm. "This audience is over."

"No! I'm not finished with him yet!" He intensified his assault on Leopold as Talon continued to haul him out of the throne room. _'You will SUBMIT!'_

Even as he suffered a seizure, the Dictat had enough strength to look back at Harry. His entire expression was filled with defiance. "Hm.. I.. I'd rather.. die.."

"He's losing his pulse!" A doctor panicked. "Take him to the infirmary!"

"No, he's too sensitive to move. The journey will kill him."

"He's having a heart attack!"

The Dictat's eyes glazed over. Just as Harry finally succeeded in piercing the sovereign's defenses, the old fart had the temerity to die. _'NO! I won't have you leave yet!'_

Harry gripped his Resurection Ring and invoked one of its powers. The soul that was about to leave the Dictat's body found itself brutally pushed inside. Invisible bonds held the soul in place and bound its will to Harry's. As Talon almost reached the exit, Leopold suddenly came alive.

"Stop." The Dictat ordered, even as his body continued its seizure. The doctors ignored his commands and persisted in their efforts to keep him alive. "Lord Harry.. I.. was wrong. My stance.. brought misery.. Harry, avenge the deaths.. punish Callisto.."

Even Death could not be denied. Harry's hold on the Dictat's soul finally slipped away from his grasp. Leopold made one final gasp, and perished.

The double doors closed as the Guards sealed the throne room and carried Harry and Amande as far away as possible. The wizard did all he could to prevent his mouth from smiling. _'Hopefully now all of my political obstacles are gone.'_

"Leopold.. he passed away.." Amande sobbed besides him. "We were the last of his family he saw before he died.."

"I'm sure he felt comforted by your presence." Harry lied as they were guided back to the entrance of the palace.

The Whirlwind Guards were kind enough to escort the pair back to Amande's lavish apartment. As they brought them inside, one of them asked if Harry wished for them to stay and provide security.

"That won't be needed, thank you."

As soon as he was certain they were alone, Harry let down his mask. Amande spotted his change of demeanor immediately. "You.. what.."

Realization passed through her. "You murderer!" The horrified girl slapped Harry's face. "You barbaric murderer!"

"Don't be so dramatic, woman. The senile git didn't have much longer to live. So what if I pushed him over the edge? The man was about to order my death or something."

"That doesn't excuse your actions!" She shouted in his face. Amande grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook him back and forth. "I tolerate a lot from you, _husband_, but that gives you no right to harm my family! They—"

"They were about to kill me! What am I supposed to do, just take it?" Harry easily shrugged Amande's hands off his body and pushed his wife away. "Don't forget that I already took a lot of crap from your family. It's not my fault they're constantly out to get me!"

"If you were just a little more diplomatic, then I'm sure that you could have avoided their ire."

"That's your job, Amande. Politics and diplomacy is your world, not mine. The only thing I'm good at is magic and killing."

For the second time in her life, the lady saw what a monster her husband represented. Harry had absolutely no conscience and very little restraint. He was a wretched person, one unworthy of the incredible power he wielded.

"You were the one who insisted we be partners." Harry continued on as he stood before his broken wife. "As my partner, I expect you to work hard to prevent these situations from occurring. If you want me to lay off your family, then have them leave me alone."

Lady Amande was unresponsive as she lay on the floor. Witnessing the death of her granduncle and finding out that her very own husband had a hand in it had collapsed her world.

Her husband did not quite take pity on her, but he knew he had to do something to keep her from doing something drastic. _'I still need her support.'_ Harry carefully lowered himself and brought her wife into a hug. Amande's tears erupted anew, and the girl simply hung onto him as she let out her emotions. He plied her with subtle magics that soothed her heart and dulled her mental aches. It wouldn't do much, but it gave him a chance to alter the blame she placed on him. Carefully, he lifted her up, bridal style.

"This has been a very long day for you. Perhaps a bath will be good for you."

No matter what, Harry needed Amande to stay pliant. If that meant playing nice and spending time with her, then so be it.

* * *

The final words of Leopold were as good as law. When the news of his last moments spread throughout the colonies, the commoners were swayed. To hear their ruler admit he was wrong had given the pacifist faction a major blow. The changing dynamics that the Dictat's passing stirred in the days ahead gave Harry a clear path to Callisto. His only regret was that the Callistoans knew he was coming for them, but that ultimately changed little.

The ascension of Lord Halcyon as the new Dictat also changed very little. The stricken heir to Leopold's legacy had his hands full with the political fallout. Never in his life had Halcyon thought his father would change his mind. The drums of war were beating fully now, and it took all of his strength as the Dictat to prevent a full-on escalation.

As for Admiral Wellesley, the grandson of Leopold was perhaps the only family member aside from Amande who was aware of the danger Harry posed. He avoided the captain like the plague and mulled his existence over. _'Captain Harry is far more dangerous than I had even hoped. He likely has access to advanced technology that can change a person's genetics or twist someone's mind.'_

The awareness struck the noble. _'It is highly likely Lady Amande is in his thrall. Even I may not have escaped Harry's influence. The longer he stays in Io, the more damage he can cause.'_

It was for this reason that the Admiral expedited the paperwork surrounding Captain Harry's raid on Callisto. He even offered the privateer a free ticket through the Gravitic Catapult, but he refused. Instead, Harry requested something different.

"The Saharah?"

It was not an unreasonable request, but initiating the Saharah meant disrupting traffic around Io for several weeks. The sheer expense involved in activating it meant that Io only used it sparingly. Yet Wellesley found himself unable to refuse Harry's request. He had seen the security footage of the throne room himself. Defying Harry seemed like a very bad idea.

'_Once he's gone, I can plot his demise in peace.'_

He needed to go over his plan very carefully. Harry was a survivor who seemed to thrive under impossible conditions. Throwing a lot of men at him wouldn't work. A trap might prove more useful. Harry's next return would be his last.

* * *

After all the drama that happened in the past week, Harry was finally allowed to leave for Callisto. He sat in the bridge, next to Claris who readied the ship to disembark. Every bridge officer carefully checked their instruments and reported any deviations the systems detected. With the extensive amounts of modifications the ship endured, it was expected that things might go wrong. The drastic changes in weight distribution, engine thrust and durability had never been tested outside of simulations. Even though each crew member received a picture on how the new ship performed, simulations could only go so far. The reality might prove much more complicated.

"All systems green."

"Powergrid fluctuation is higher than expected. Compensating."

"Initiate the undocking procedure."

"Aye aye, ma'm. Undocking now."

Fortunately, nothing blew up. The newly reborn _Immortal Marauder_ left the Firestorm Solutions repair yard without incidents. The helmsman, navigator and every other crewman had properly adjusted their systems to take the new changes into account. Claris didn't dare test out the new changes at this moment. Not in the middle of Io's inner perimeter, with millions of cameras recording the _Marauder_'s progress. Keeping her capabilities as hidden as possible was paramount.

Claris relaxed, and turned to smile at Harry. "The ship has undocked. What are your orders, sir?"

"Follow Jenning's pre-programmed plot."

"Aye aye, sir."

The cruiser turned her huge bulk along an invisible path that led her out of Io. Claris noticed that despite the changes, the ship responded fluently to her commands. _'What a difference a full crew makes.'_ They had finally reached optimum crew levels for the _Marauder_. With around six-hundred spacers and two-hundred marines, the vessel was fully combat capable.

After two hours of continuous boosting, they reached the 'corridor' from which the course changed into a straight path to where they would cross Callisto's orbit. The importance of this course soon became apparent.

"Incoming comm link." Lieutenant Kenzie called out. "It's from Admiral Turner."

"Accept the transmission."

"Aye aye, ma'm."

The admiral of the Expeditionary Fleet appeared on the screen. He stood in a large control room, whose workers were diligently making their final adjustments. "This is Admiral Noah Turner to the _Immortal Marauder_. The Saharah is standing by. Are you ready, Captain Harry?"

"As I'll ever be, mate."

Turner twitched at Harry's presumptuous tone but knew he couldn't do anything about it. If it were up to him, the captain would have been booted out of his position long ago. Only Wellesley's constant assurances made him stay his hand. _'You'll get what's coming for you, Harry.'_

"I will be releasing the Saharah now. Don't waste it." The transmission cut off before Harry could send back a snarky reply.

"We're detecting a major eruption from the surface of Io!"

"That's expected. Set the ship to yellow alert. Amplify both gravitic and magnetic screening. Prepare for imminent turbulence."

The Saharah referred to one of Io's most unique offensive weapon. Io was a volcanically active planet which featured frequent eruptions that let out enormous plumes of volcanic dust that engulfed entire regions. Somewhere along its colonization, the people of Io had gained the ability to control the location, direction and magnitude of these eruptions. Project Saharah was in fact a moving city on the surface of the planet. It planted several devices into the crust that massaged the area in order to initiate a programmed eruption.

That outburst happened now. A huge plume of heated dust rushed out of the moon's weak gravity and flew right towards the cruiser that lay in the dust storm's path. The _Immortal Marauder_ awaited the deluge with calm. At the bridge, Claris turned to her captain.

"Once we enter the Saharah.. we'll be cut off from the outside universe. The storm will hide our profile and emissions.. but it will also block off communications. Are you certain you want to go through with this?"

"I'm more than ready. Let's bring it on."

Harry's grin stayed plastered on his face even as the entire vessel shook as the front of the storm engulfed the vessel. The _Marauder_'s strong shielding kept most of the dust from hitting the hull, and her engine exhausts vaporized any dust that managed to get inside. This didn't prevent the ship from vibrating as her inertial compensators struggled to stabilize the ship under the intense waves of turbulence she currently experienced. It took over fifteen minutes until the dust storm finally evened out into a predictable pattern.

"Set the ship to cruising speed."

Harry's ship finally went underway, unseen by all. The Saharah project insured that no one, not even the Ioans themselves, could determine the _Immortal Marauder_'s speed and direction. The dust storm itself continued to bloom out and engulf an ever-larger area. While this eventually reduced its capability to hide any ships travelling within, it was still more than enough to hide the _Marauder_ when it reached the other moon.

The Saharah would be maintained for several days, allowing Harry to pick his time of attack within that interval. While the arrival of the dust storm over Callisto warned the other power that an attack was imminent, they probably already expected it anyway. The Saharah helped by blocking sensors and interfering with communications. Any enemies trapped within were blind and mute.

The only problem was that the same disadvantage applied to the Ioans as well. Any ship within the cloud could barely see past a few hundred kilometers. Communications was impossible unless the ships were linked with specialized cables. The ships within the Saharah were therefore aptly suited to eliminate static targets such as space stations or planetary installations. Attacking moving targets required accurate and up-to-date sensor data, and Harry hadn't spent much time on upgrading the _Marauder_'s eyes.

'_I'll have to fix that deficiency the next time we are back in port. I don't want to be taken by surprise again.'_ The psi-ops assault on the _Eviscerator_ was a painful reminder of that particular failure. _'Hmm.. the psi-ops were Callistoan.. there's a decent chance I'll see them again. I will have to tweak our defenses to take those little rascals into account.'_

"Captain," Claris called him to attention. "The ship is stable and nothing unexpected has occurred. I'll be bringing the ship from yellow alert. I suggest you retire from the bridge, there is nothing more to do here."

"Alright. I'll prepare the final details of the battle plan and forward them to you tonight."

The coming operation would test the enhanced cruiser to its very limits, depending on how ambitious Harry pursued his goals. While he was able rescue Selner with relative ease, he wanted to make the Callistoans pay. He also wanted to get to the bottom of the psi-ops project that the lunar power had developed, and that meant spending a lot of time searching for the location of the project's base.

* * *

This time Harry entered the conference room from the 'shortcut'. Almost every compartment of the ship had a similar hatch which led straight into the pocket dimension where people could travel to the other side of the ship in seconds. It beat the elevators and hoverpads by a long shot, but not everyone trusted strange and bizarre improvement. Plenty of officers in the conference room had traveled up here by foot.

"I see everyone has already arrived." Harry nodded with approval. "Let's get this meeting on. Claris, will you start?"

His executive officer acknowledged the order and put the holoprojector online. She loaded the battle plan into view. While everyone had contributed to the planning, not all of them were aware of the final version.

"This operation will last as long as the Saharah remains effective in shielding our presence in Callisto. Taking into account the orbits of Io and Callisto, the gravity that the latter moon exerts on the dust cloud and many other factors, we estimate that the cloud will remain effective for a total of six to eight hours. This will be our time limit."

Claris shifted the view of the projector to show the moon itself. Callisto was the odd moon out of the Big Four. It orbited much further than the other three moons, and was subject to much less of the immense gravitational pressure the gigantic planet exerted. The absence of tidal forces, resonance with the other moons and many other factors made it into the most habitable moon of Jupiter.

Extensive terraforming had turned the planet into a garden world where strange and exotic fauna had nested. The moon's weak carbon dioxide atmosphere had been strengthened to such a degree that Callisto now featured a relatively fragile but stable atmosphere. Jupiter's great distance from the sun meant the moon didn't suffer as much from the damaging solar winds that ravaged the terrestrial planets further inwards, allowing the atmosphere to survive in relative peace. The distance also meant that the moon received only a fraction of the radiation that Earth was blessed with, forcing the Callistoans to maintain their carbon dioxide atmosphere in order to make use of the greenhouse effect. A human breathable nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere would have frozen the moon into an icicle.

With no volcanic activity, a stable tidally locked orbit, and relatively little tidal pressure to speak of, the colonists of Callisto settled onto the surface of the planet en masse. Its underground ocean provided the moon with an abundance of water which they used to moisturize the plants and use for their own consumption. While Callisto boasted few exotic resources, the ease to which minerals was dug up turned it into a stable self-sufficient colony.

"As you can see, the Callistoans are the only lunar nation of Jupiter to settle primarily on the surface of their moon. Compared to the other three powers, they rely much less on space stations for habitation."

"Is it possible to breathe on Callisto's surface?" Kenzie asked. As the only officer to come from outside the Jovian region, she was the most ignorant person in the room.

"You can." Zhang responded. "We Callistoans use breather devices on our mouths to extract the oxygen from the carbon dioxide air and breathe in that manner. Some of us have even implanted internal breathers into our throats, which allows us to forgo the need of an external device. Your vacsuits should all have the appropriate function installed if they are a Jovian product."

"It won't matter since the only people who go down planet are those in full combat armor." Claris interrupted, and continued with the briefing. "In any case, our targets for this operation is divided into several primary and many secondary, optional targets. Our goals are first and foremost to rescue a former crew member, Dr. Selner. Our intelligence has located her presence at a mansion outside Callisto's capital city at the surface of the planet, here."

The holoprojector zoomed in to display the heavily-guarded home. "The owner of the mansion is Selner's husband, James. As the sub-director of the Callistoan branch of the Exploration Society, he has access to great wealth and power, and it is almost certain the palace is heavily guarded. Harry and a detachment of marines will insert themselves in the following way…"

Harry tuned out of the lecture. As one of the principle planners of the combat operation, he was well aware of the details. All he concerned himself was the wait. It took more than a month for the _Marauder_ to even reach Callisto at their plodding pace. He could do little during the journey except to enchant everyone's gear and train in simulations. While he had already mailed numerous portkeys to different facilities on Callisto, he didn't dare rescue Selner without support. If the Callistoans were able to keep their psi-ops project hidden, who knew what else they hid in their closets? And the Black line's presence on the moon also made the raid more complicated.

All of these factors induced a sense of caution into the wizard. With only a limited amount of battle magic at his disposal, he had to make up for his deficiency with preparation. By strengthening his ship and his marines, he could achieve far more objectives than by himself at the peak of his strength.

As the wizard watched his officers listen attentively to Claris, he smiled. Having allies by his side had made him more content than he initially realized. All those years of traipsing about on Earth and fighting the Wizarding World by himself could have gone much smoother if he opened up and trusted a few people. _'I wouldn't know what to do without these people.'_

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	46. II: The Initial Strike - Repost

April 16, 2012  
November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Initial Strike_

* * *

The _Immortal Marauder_ had spent more than a month to traverse the vast distance between Io and Callisto's orbits. She traveled unseen, as the Saharah hid her exact location. While the huge and conspicuous dust cloud gave the Callistoans ample warning of Harry's impending raid, they wouldn't be able to pinpoint the vessel for the duration of the attack. This placed the initiative solely at the captain's hands.

Harry carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Though Claris provided him with a lot of advice, it was eventually up to him to decide which targets to strike. Most of the secondary targets he picked were targets of opportunity, important military assets that were of crucial value in the event of a war. Some of them Harry was sure he could take out painlessly, but there were many more that required the _Marauder_ to approach the target and bombard it into pieces.

Of course, the Callistoans weren't going to let the cruiser wreak havoc in their lines. By the time the _Marauder_ reached Callisto, much of the dust cloud would be dispersed, enough to allow rudimentary short-range scanning and communication. Firing a weapon under those circumstances would certainly give away her position. These were all risks that had to be taken into account. Despite the enormous cash bounties offered for some targets, he could not be too greedy. For example, touching Callisto's strategic battle fleet was way out of his league.

A pair of warm globes pressed against his back. Harry felt Star envelop her body over his. He moaned a little as she entwined her legs with his own while rubbing his bare chest with her soft and gentle hands. The Veela also pressed her Venus against his rear, leaving a trail of white he deposited earlier in her entrance.

"You're tense." She whispered softly behind him. "It won't do you any good tomorrow."

"I can't help it. Tomorrow's the day Selner will be rescued. The worst thing is.." Sighing, he took Star's hand and enjoyed the warmth. "I won't be rescuing her myself."

His pet didn't respond. Her body also stopped caressing him. Harry turned around in his bed and faced his bed warmer. "What's wrong?"

"You.. you won't throw me away, will you? I mean, I've heard the stories, how Selner made you feel good. With her around, you won't have a need for me anymore.."

"You're wrong, Star." He dipped in and kissed her on the lips, delighting the woman. "I love you Star. You've been a good pet to me. You've kept me company, and I will always cherish that. Selner won't replace you, I will make certain of that. You will always have a place at my lap."

While Star didn't seem very satisfied by his answer, she accepted him at his word. "It's just.. she's a doctor. She has so many uses for you. When she grows old and her skin turns dry, she will always stay useful. As for me.. I won't amount to anything once my beauty fades.."

"I'll never discard you like a piece of trash." Harry stated firmly. "Besides, you're not useless. You have a good way with words.."

A small pause settled between them as Star snuggled up to her master. "I've thought about how I can make myself useful to you. One of the things you lack is a political adviser and a negotiator."

"I already have Lady Amande to cover me in that aspect."

"She can't be everywhere." Star admonished him as she fondled his soft, spent organ. "Amande is a noble, who is used to getting things her way. She also retains much loyalty to the House of Antares. Didn't she fail to anticipate the Dictat's summons? And the potential damage it might have done to you?"

He couldn't argue with her analysis. Star appeared quite capable at this moment. Perhaps it might benefit him in having her around for more than just a quick romp. "Alright. I'll take you on as my adviser. But that doesn't negate the fact that you're still my sex pet."

"I wouldn't dream of it, master."

The conversation ceased when Star began to lick Harry's ears. She was ecstatic that Harry accepted her proposal. Normally she just wanted to stay as far away from Harry as possible, but with the impending return of Harry's concubine, she had to keep up with the competition. No matter what, she had to maintain the wizard's affection for her. If not, he might throw her away.. _'and perhaps allow the rest of the crew to have a taste of me.'_ That thought scared her most of all. While she wasn't a stranger to orgies, she just wouldn't be able to live with herself if Harry turned her into the ship's communal whore.

'_I'll prove it to you Harry.. I'm more than just about pleasure.'_

* * *

The day of the operation had finally arrived. While the _Immortal Marauder_'s impressive marine contingent were preparing for deployment at the armory, Harry stood at the bridge in his custom-built combat suit. Like his ship, the wizard had his suit made of material that resisted nEMP, then layered his enchantments and wards from the inside. While this wouldn't stop stronger nEMP attacks from negating his magic, he also had a shield built into his arms that could deploy into a hardened barrier that was rated to withstand up to Class III nEMP attacks. The magician relied on his magic to protect him against other types of damage.

"We're approaching the first stage of our assault." Claris told him from her captain's seat. The central projector at the front of the bridge relayed all of the relevant tactical information. Currently it showed the system schematic for Callisto and her space stations. The huge cloud wave was already in the process of engulfing the outer space stations. The _Marauder_ followed close behind the front of the cloud wave.

In twenty minutes, the first major military outpost would be in effective torpedo range. Destroying it deprived Callisto of a major supply and repair point, and weaken the nation's perimeter defense.

But this wasn't the main assault. The opening salvo of the raid would be much more devastating than anything else that happened after. The boy gleefully grinned behind his helmet as he spotted the many dots spread around the surface of Callisto. They all corresponded to the portkeys that Harry had mailed out to sensitive military and governmental assets. Callisto's immense battle fleet and defensive networks made a direct approach with his cruiser unwise. Just as well. This method was much safer, and far more cruel.

He had spent many millions of credits on acquiring a warehouse full of high explosives. It was finally time to put his money to good use. "Tell the cargo bay to prep the delivery."

* * *

Dirk acknowledged the command and hollered at his spacers. "Alright, ye lads, we got the go ahead from our capt'n. Let's rain some hell on Callisto!"

The deck hands cheered and began to prepare the payloads for delivery. Dirk watched in pride as they primed the 'superbombs' for detonation. The self-proclaimed deckswabber had named the explosive canisters himself and he felt mighty proud about it. While each of the superbombs only looked as big as a cow, the captain did something weird to them, 'expansion' or some shit, and stuffed in so many explosive and incendiary compounds that they might as well be supertorpedoes. _'Without the huge-ass jet propeller up their asses.'_

That was because the captain did some hocus pocus and made it possible to send the bombs to their destination instantly. Dirk grinned as even a dimwit like him knew there was practically no defense against that.

"Hey boss!" One of his subordinates called from one of the 'shortcut' hatches. "We're bringing in the cattle, but they're being stubborn. Seems one of them heard what would happen to them, and now they're all thrashing about."

Couldn't his crew do anything by themselves? "Fucking subdue them, you shit. Knock them around the head a few times. As far as I know, the capt'n didn't tell me they had to be healthy. They just had to be alive."

"Whateva you say boss. It's not my problem if this shit fucks up."

The delivery method had one minor disadvantage. As best as Dirk understood it, in order to activate the teleportation shit, a living human being had to touch the triggering mechanism. The captain said something about using internal magic or soul power or some shit. They couldn't use animals or dead flesh to trick the triggers into activating themselves. This inconvenienced Harry, until he decided to obtain 'volunteers'.

"Let go of me! I have rights! You can't do this to us!"

"You call yourselves privateers? You're nothing but pirates in kneesocks!"

"You barbarians are violating so many codes of war that—"

Gratefully, one of the guards knocked the whiner's teeth out. A long procession of prisoners slowly led out of the hatch. Most of them wore bloodied faces or blackened bruises. While Dirk would have preferred to tranquilize them, Harry told him that might interfere with the 'portkey' shit, so they had to resort to physical beatings.

As he watched the random bums that Harry had kidnapped off the streets of Io being led to their doom, the deckswabber felt not a single ounce of remorse. He knew that a lot of other crewman objected to this plan, particularly those stuck up military personnel, so Harry made sure the only crewmen who dealt with this part of the assault were hardened pirates. Like Dirk. He smiled at the capt'ns recognition of his talents. _'He's not such a kid after all.'_

In fact, in reward for their contribution, Harry allowed the pirates free reign on the prisoners to do as they saw fit, as long as they remained alive at the end. Dirk himself had spent many nights with a particular redhead among the kidnapped. She had been a mighty fine ride. _'Too bad she's going to get blasted to smithereens soon. Maybe I should ask the captain for a replacement.'_ After all, if Harry enjoyed his private whores, why shouldn't the rest of his crew have a taste?

"Alright men, go strap the cattle tight around the superbombs. The capt'n said there's a maximum diameter for the portkeys, so if there's too much slack, something might be left behind. And trust me, we do NOT want that to happen."

The spacers nodded and methodically guided their prisoners on top of the cylindrical superbombs. Special cuffs welded onto the surface of the bombs held the unfortunate sacrifices in place. A lot of them started crying or begging, but Dirk had his orders and exhorted each of his men to strap every single bomb with a prisoner. It took ten minutes to finish the entire process. After ordering his men to check the bonds once again, he nodded, and brought up his control panel to activate the next stage.

An army of hovering grav units appeared over the cargo bay. The floating units held small bolts or wrenches or other knickknacks that Harry had spelled into portkeys. They were kept carefully in storage and away from the touch of others until now. According to some rumors, it took weeks for the wizard to finish completing all of the portkeys because of the sheer energy they demanded of him. _'It's worth it, though._' Dirk thought as he directed each of the grav units to hover above the prisoners strapped to the superbombs.

He opened a comm link to the bridge. "The payload is ready and primed, ma'm. Just say the word and we'll be giving Callisto an inferno they won't forget."

"Standby for imminent activation."

The crew hastily retreated from the main floor as Dirk waited for the final command. He couldn't wait to press the button.

"Release the bombs. Activation code four-four-four-four-seven."

Dirk immediately inputted the code into his terminal, then pressed the big red button that said 'release'. All of the crew members cheered as they saw the grav units release the portkeys. Each and every one of the enchanted objects fell against the bare flesh of the prisoners. The effect was instantaneous. One moment they were there, the next, they were gone. The entire cargo bay emptied in an instance.

With this, the first strike had been made. Harry's raid started in earnest.

* * *

At one of Callisto's premiere orbital shipyard, an overseer entered his office to retrieve his lunch. He took a look at the toy statue perched atop his desk. The thing had been mailed to him by some organization for a promotional event or something. He thought it might be funny to have it spice up his office. After running the required security scans on the gift, he was allowed to bring it in. After all, it was just a solid piece of metal. There was no way the thing contained a surveillance bug.

"Now where did I leave my lunchbox?"

He remembered now. He stashed his wife's homemade meal in his desk drawer. Since his back wasn't as good as it used to, he took a seat and opened the drawer with his key. As he retrieved the precious box, he was blasted off of his chair by a sudden pressure wave.

The overseer scrambled upwards to see what had pushed him away. _'This better not be another prank.'_

What he encountered instead was something far beyond his imagination. A metal tube of some sorts.. with a crying person strapped against the surface. The redhead woman looked at the overseer and yelled something.

"Get away! It's going to blow! RUN!"

It was too late, as the internal detonator activated itself and ignited the explosives stuffed in the outer layer of the container. This instantly annihilated the overseer's office, along with the entire administrative section attached to the shipyard.

But this wasn't the end. The expansion charm embedded into the bomb stopped working. This rapidly expelled tons of modern explosive materials, which instantly ignited under the oppressive heat of from the initial blast. This initiated a cluster of ever-expanding blasts which rapidly grew in destructive capability until the entire mini-space station-sized shipyard broke apart. Thousands of workers died along with billions of credits worth of destroyers and cruisers under construction or maintenance.

All around Callisto, the same pattern repeated. Defensive installations, marine bases, and even the fleet headquarters itself went up into a blaze of flaming inferno. A handful of bombs appeared in harmless locations such as recycling plants as the receivers of the destination portkeys had chucked it in the garbage bin. This allowed a few strategically important assets such as a power plant to escape the destruction unscathed.

It mattered little in the long run. The devastation caused by this single wave was immense. A fifth of Callisto's war assets were affected. Tens of millions had perished in the flames. While Harry focused on easily accessible targets that crippled Callisto's defense network, he also picked several targets that weakened the nation's long-term war capability. In the event of a drawn-out war, Callisto would be at a disadvantage.

At the bridge of the _Immortal Marauder_, the bridge crew were not able to see how effective the attack had progressed. The central projector only showed an estimate of which targets were affected, but with the dust cloud obscuring both visuals and communications, they had no idea what they had actually achieved.

"The payload has been delivered successfully. All thirty-eight superbombs are deployed."

"One minute until we enter effective torpedo range of the target."

"Permission to fire at will, captain?"

"Of course, Claris. Do as you will."

While the Callistoans occupied themselves with the destruction already caused, the _Immortal Marauder_ proceeded to work her way inwards, taking out targets of opportunities along the way.

"Entering effective range in thirty seconds."

"Spin the ship around!" Claris ordered to the helmsman. "Angle the torpedo launcher towards the target."

"Aye aye, ma'm. Engaging thrusters."

The _Marauder_ stopped boosting forwards and instead engaged her secondary thrusters to spin her in place. Her great momentum continued to carry her forward in the dust cloud, allowing her to aim her aft torpedo launcher while closing in.

"The interference is too thick for a lock."

"Apply the simulation data."

"Estimates have been inputted. The primary torpedo tube is ready for fire. We are now in range."

"Fire the supertorpedo!"

"Aye aye, ma'm. Firing the primary tube!"

A shudder ran through the ship as the supertorpedo left the ship and accelerated rapidly. The magically enchanted torpedo contained even more explosives than the superbombs. In addition, Harry had strengthened and lightened the projectile in order to speed it up and make it withstand most point defense. With a final touch, Harry placed a good dose of notice-me-nots and disillusionment charms on the torpedo. While he didn't think it would fool electronic sensors, it was worth a try.

The supertorpedoes were so powerful, that Harry only managed to enchant eight of them. But eight were more than enough to leave a trail of destruction. The military outpost was on high alert ever since the dust cloud engulfed its sensors. As such, they were able to detect the rapidly advancing torpedo well before impact.

Sadly, it didn't do them any good, as the torpedo reached the outpost before her defensive emplacements could be fully brought to bear. The small amount of pulse bolts fired in the torpedo's way were gently deflected by a shield charm placed on its tip.

The torpedo reached the hull of the outpost and bore right through the hull, decompressing many compartments along the way. The vacsuited personnel who flew out of the breach were the lucky ones.

Because a few seconds later, the torpedo detonated in the same clustering pattern as the superbombs. The destructive blast soon outgrew even the magnificence of the wildly expensive Sunflare torpedo.

At the bridge of the _Immortal Marauder_, Harry could clearly see the brightness of the torpedo on the visual screen. Claris smiled with him.

"As the torpedo detonated successfully, we can assume it had reached its target."

"Good. Continue the good work." Harry then turned away and headed for the exit. "I'll be down at the armory and see how our marines are prepared for the coming insertion."

"Have fun, sir."

As her captain left the bridge, Claris oozed in her seat and directed the ship to swivel towards their next target. This was what she lived for. The sheer destruction and carnage they were leaving behind made her extremely excited. Normally, this domain of terror and destruction was reserved for bombardment cruisers or battleships. But with the extensive powers of a magician at her disposal, she could lay waste to all of her opposition with a few mundane tricks. Expansion. Teleportation. How beautiful that these two simple effects could be combined into an explosive that had the potential to kill millions of people with every blast.

Best of all, the weapon didn't have a single biological, chemical or nuclear component, making it completely legal. If Harry had resorted to any of those forbidden substances, then Claris was sure every nation in the solar system would hunt them down. Even she didn't dare piss off the entire solar system.

* * *

The ship's marine contingent were stationed at one of the lower decks. The deck boasted everything the marines required: bunks, a mess hall, training and simulation areas, a relaxation lounge, and of course the armory. Two hundred marines had just finished kitting themselves out in full combat gear. Each and every soldier's equipment were laden with wards and enchantments, enough to make their arms and armor equivalent to Class III. In addition, each squad leader and his deputy carried a portkey that would instantly bring all who touched it back to the ship.

As Harry entered the room, he regretted the fact that he couldn't provide each and every one of his soldiers with a portkey. The magical energy required for such a massive undertaking was simply too much. He had to ration his energy effectively and devote enough resources for his bombs as well. Harry hoped that the hundred-and-fifty marines who would be shipping out would be able to extract successfully. _'If not, the charms I placed into the suit will fry up the enchantments and leave no evidence behind.'_

This was important. In order to avoid giving his enemies useful intelligence, he warned his marines that success was absolutely vital. They were well aware of the consequences for failure.

Chief Cleveland approached the captain as he entered the room. "All of our men and women are ready to be deployed." He waved his armored hand towards the neatly lined up squads of marines painted in the dark blue hue of Io. "Do you have any words for our soldiers?"

As Harry saw the currently unhelmeted marines shift their attention on him, he silently cursed Cleveland. _'I'm no good with speeches.'_ Yet he knew how an inspiring tone could make a difference in the battlefield. If he could manage to raise morale, then it might improve the odds of success. He had to make an effort, if only for that. Besides, they were fighting not just for their country or career, but for him. They were risking their lives to achieve his goals, and some part of Harry respected that. _'I really do care for all of them.'_

"Men, women, marines. This is the day where your skills are being put to the test. This is the day that you will prove to yourself that you have what it takes to call yourself a marine. I have done my best to give you every advantage I can give. Your armor is tougher than a tank, and your weapons are punch harder than a flying hovercar. But this is the moment that you will prove that you deserve these privileges. Complete the mission, stay alive, and come back in one piece. IS THAT CLEAR?"

The entire contingent answered with a loud "WHOOAH!" or something of the like. While Harry just made up all the words, he thought he did a decent job as he saw all the confident smiles. _'Nothing like a good challenge to bring out their competitive spirits.'_

"Alright, men, begin deployment." Cleveland called out. "Squad two, form up to the teleporter."

A group of ten marines lowered their helmets into place and marched up to the portkey that hovered in the air with the help of a grav unit. The soldiers surrounded the portkey and held each other's bodies.

"Squad two, deploy."

The sergeant who led the unit touched the portkey, and instantly the entire marine unit whisked away. Cleveland nodded and called up the next unit to be portkeyed away. Suprisingly, Dr. Zhang was with them. He looked small and out of place in his flimsy combat suit. Nevertheless, his expression held a lot of resolve. Harry nodded at him and wished him good luck.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to pass that on to my colleagues." Dr. Zhang grinned as he linked up with the other marines. They disappeared when the sergeant touched the portkey in the middle.

This pattern repeated until only Harry, Cleveland, the First Squad and the remaining marines who were allocated to guard the ship remained.

"First squad, form up to the teleporter."

The First Squad, composed of Harry's best close combat fighters, closed their helmets and approached one of the few portkeys left. Surprisingly, Sergeant Castia headed the elite unit. _'I thought she was only good for guarding the brig.'_ Harry thought. Well, if Cleveland thought Castia was good enough, then he trusted the former boarder's judgment. After all, the First Squad had the most important mission of all.

Rescue Selner.

Harry wanted to come with the First Squad so badly, but he was needed elsewhere. No one but another wizard could take on the psi-ops commandos and win. Any muggle would be slaughtered against the primal magics and raging telepathy of the child soldiers. "Bring my concubine back home, First Squad. If you don't…"

The helmeted figure of Castia nodded. Cleveland gave the order to deploy, and the First Squad quickly disappeared.

"That's the last of them." Cleveland told his captain as he ordered the rest of his marines to provide security throughout the ship. "Now we just have to wait."

That was the worst part of the plan. The wait. Without proof where the psi-ops base was hidden, Harry couldn't do anything but wait for his marines to gather the intelligence. They were deployed to various locations in and around Io, either at bases which might hold the information or near people who might knew something about it such as transhumanists or politicians. If they were unable to gather the intelligence, then it was no loss, as the locations his marines were deployed to contained plenty of other valuable information.

Still, it made Harry feel somewhat sick that some of his marines might get killed. They trusted the captain with their lives, but was he worthy enough to earn it? _'I bet Voldemort or any other Dark Lord never cared so much about their subordinates' lives.'_

Did the fact that Harry cared make him better? Or worse? He honestly didn't know. Dumbledore cared deeply about his own Order members, but look where that got him. _'I have no use for minions except for them to die on my behalf. I can't get too enamored with them and have them make me do the stuff they want.'_

* * *

"Detecting incoming heat signatures!"

Claris knew her luck wouldn't last. "Identify them now! Are they missiles or ships?"

"Resolving.. they're spaceships! Reading five signatures.. all frigates!"

She swore. A single frigate was no match to the _Marauder_, but five of them had enough firepower and maneuverability to cripple an important system. No matter what, Claris had to neutralize the flotilla in order to get past.

"Missiles detected! Reading.. seventy-eight missiles!"

'_Damnit, I forgot. They're military frigates, of course they carry missile launchers.'_ The commander made his decision quickly. "Rotate our roof towards the incoming flotilla. I want our armored roof to absorb the bulk of the volley."

"Aye aye." The helmsman acknowledged and did as he was told.

The _Immortal Marauder_ was a broadside cruiser, which meant that the sides that held her cannons were particularly vulnerable, but the sides that did not hold any weaponry were fortified for these kinds of situations.

"Put our point-defense on those missiles and push them into full power! It's time to put our heat absorption units to the test."

The cruiser let loose the numerous pulse turrets spread around her hull. While the dust interfered with their targeting, the sheer amount of pulses were able to thin the majority of the missile volley. The _Marauder_'s efforts were helped by the fact that the ship carried a revolutionary new method of absorbing excess heat, allowing the turrets to fire without overheating the ship. The turrets were all connected to heat conductors which led to a pocket dimension filled with coolant fluid, far in excess to what the cruiser herself was able to carry. While this massively increased the ship's long-term damage potential, it didn't increase her burst potential.

Despite the efforts of the turret operators, a handful of missiles survived the barrage and were about to impact the ship.

"All hands, brace for impact!"

Every crewman who sat on a secure seat were enveloped into shock-absorbing cocoons. Claris herself was blinded and pressed by her own seat, waiting for the impact to jar her around. But when the missiles finally exploded against the vessel, she could hardly feel a thing. _'Is this the strength of Harry's enchantments?'_

The cocoons automatically retracted after the danger had passed. "Damage report!"

"Reading excess heat in some compartments along with severe scarring on the hull. No major damage to report, ma'm."

A wave of relief passed over the commander. _'So that means Class VII missiles can't dent us.'_ She had also gained a read on the enemy flotilla. _'They're light patrollers, meant to combat frigates and corvettes. They don't carry heavy armaments.'_ That didn't mean they were harmless. Claris realized that these ships used their speed to home in on the _Marauder_ and to keep a lock on her while acting as a beacon for the slower and heavier ships. If this skirmish dragged on too long, a cruiser might arrive. _'I have to end this now.'_

"Helmsman, spin the ship and align our port broadside towards the enemy flotilla." As Nicholas obeyed her commands she turned towards her weapons officer. "Miss Stacy, direct the portside gunners to fire two pulse volleys at the frigates. I want two guns on each frigate. Finish it in two volleys!"

"Aye aye ma'm! Inputting targeting data now!"

The _Immortal Marauder_'s potent Class IX varilaser cannons rotated minutely in order to align themselves with their individual targets. When all six cannons held three of the ships in her sights, the guns let loose their awesome payload.

Pulse weapons were an oddity compared to other armaments. Beam lasers were precise and hot. Railguns could punch through the most resilient armor. And nEMP could disable both complex equipment and organic beings. In a universe where ships had these three awesome methods of destruction at its disposal, why resort to pulses?

Because they were efficient. Beam lasers were hot, and therefore needed an incredible amount of coolant to sustain. Railguns lasted only as long as they had ammunition to devour. As for nEMP, some things just needed to be destroyed, not disabled. Pulsed particle bolts converted electricity into a hybrid shell of energy and mass without leaving behind too much excess heat. This made pulse weaponry cheap, fast, and remarkably enduring.

The six cruiser-grade pulse bolts rapidly traversed the distance between the two sides. While the frigates were already in the process of dispersing, they had to stick close enough to the _Marauder_ in order to track her. This became their undoing, as all of the bolts struck home. Their armor were two classes too short to absorb the impact. There was no contest in the case of a direct, medium-range hit.

A pair of pulse bolts with such power and density tore through the frigates' armor like paper. They dug deep inside the ship, drilling through compartments and gutting the ship from the inside. What was worse, the heat contained in the bolts dispersed itself throughout the metal structure of the ship, melting or warping it and damaging many more systems. While the three stricken frigates weren't destroyed, they were in no shape left to fight.

Before the two remaining frigates could respond, three bolts came for each, penetrating their flimsy hulls with ease and causing even more destruction in their internals. One pulse bolt even made it straight to the reactor, causing a critical overload which enveloped the ship in nuclear fury.

"Commander, F5 has suffered a reactor overload." Lieutenant Kenzie reported from her sensor station. "The interference is causing us to lose our lock on them."

'_That means the same happened to our enemies. They can't track us anymore.'_ She grinned and turned to her helmsman. "Mr. Nicholas, resume our preprogrammed course, full speed away!"

The _Immortal Marauder_ quickly left the area, leaving the crippled frigates behind. The slower but more powerful destroyers which were also based at the destroyed outpost came far too late. Claris was relieved she didn't have to face the heavier ships.

'_The real challenge begins now.'_ The woman thought as her ship sailed blindly into the dust cloud. All of Callisto's menacing cruiser squadrons were stationed further inwards. What the _Marauder_ faced just earlier were just the border pickets. Much heavier opposition lay ahead.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	47. II: Risk and Reward - Repost

May 4, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Risk and Reward_

* * *

Captain Gloria sipped her beverage in peace as she watched the news feed projected in the center of the lounge at the Excelsior Club. A few other pirate captains present followed the events that unfolded at Callisto as well, though at a healthy distance from the captain of the _Mirrored Abyss_. Ever since coming back from that raid on the Ioan convoy, she regained much of her prestige. The humiliation at the hands of Captain Harry hadn't been forgotten completely, but as far as she was concerned it was old news.

'_Speaking of the news, it seems that Captain Kid is up to no good.'_

News agencies around the solar system all reported on the ongoing raid on Callisto. While it was difficult to penetrate the Ioan dust storm that enveloped the moon, several powerful communication arrays were still able to establish a weak link to the outside world. What the distressed Callistoans showed was absolute carnage. Dozens of explosions, millions dead, and many, many tragedies more. There was no way a single ship could have wrought this much damage. Many analysts speculated that Captain Harry's public crusade was simply a distraction, and Gloria was inclined to agree.

"Amusing, is it not?" A cultured male voice queried next to her.

Gloria jumped at the voice, and swiftly turned to the man who snuck up beside her on the couch with murder in her eyes. All bloodlust instantly fled from her body as she noticed the sparkling grey mop atop of the head of the speaker.

"C-C-Captain Grey! What are you doing here?"

The scion of Admiral Black took a moment to taste his no-doubt priceless glass of wine before deigning to reply. "I was in the area."

The woman unconsciously scooted back from Grey's relaxing pose. She had heard all about the notorious heir of the Callistoan Maffia. While she was a formidable woman by herself, Grey was an absolute monster, especially concerning women. Rumor had it he slept with a different slavegirl each night, wearing them out so hard that the poor victims had to be disposed in the morning. Captain Gloria didn't intend to be the man's next conquest any time soon, but if he asked for her… she could never refuse. Not if she wanted to keep her head.

As if aware of what the female captain thought, Grey smiled mirthfully at her as he swept his eyes over her attractive uniform. "You look delectable as always."

She gulped. "Thank you. Can I please know.. why you are talking to me?"

"Business as always." Grey sighed, and gulped the remainder of his glass. "Times are changing. My father requested an.. audience with you. I think he mentioned something about recruitment of the sort." He smirked as he blatantly lowered his eyes to her chest. "At least he has good taste."

She feared it would come to this. Her performance during the raid had impressed the admiral and brought her to his attention. During the debriefing, he expressly went out to praise her for her ability to keep so many undisciplined corvette captains. Gloria should have just taken the money and leave the station immediately, but she continued to accept the admiral's well-paying jobs. Damn her greed. Now the Admiral wanted her to join the Callistoan Maffia and become dependent on a _man_.

Wanting to get as far away from Grey as she could, Gloria threw her half-empty glass over her head and lifted herself to her feet. "I should get going then. Good day, Captain Grey."

Barely a step later and she felt a hand clasp her wrist. Instinctively she turned to slap the offender, only to halt when she gazed upon Grey's predatory eyes. She could practically feel the lust that radiated from his expression.

"My father.. can wait. Please, stay."

The man tugged harshly, causing Gloria to stumble on his lap. Grinning at his conquest, Grey grabbed Gloria's chin and pulled her into a forceful kiss. The woman struggled as memories of her defilement came to the fore. She swore that she would never let another man have his way with her body again. Yet Captain Grey could never be defied.

"You're a feisty one I see." The powerful heir commented as he grinded his pelvis against her waist. "I can already see we'll have a lot of fun." He dove at Gloria's neck and bit harshly against her soft flesh. "Don't worry, I won't be too rough. Daddy wants you in one piece."

That hardly reassured the captain of the _Mirrored Abyss_ as she endured yet another public humiliation. _'You'll pay for this, Grey. I'll kill you someday.. just like Captain Harry.'_

* * *

Sergeant Castia was not surprised to find herself on the surface of Callisto, not far from a lavish mansion. She half-expected the infernal teleportation device to deposit her somewhere into deep space, but the portkey actually did its job. She had little time to think about the repercussions as her squad was already on the move.

"Detecting organics." One of her scouts communicated through the commandlink. "Fifteen guards are patrolling the courtyard."

"Threat level?" She asked as she lowered herself and moved through the thick foliage of Callisto's vast genetic engineered forests. The owner of the mansion was a fool to keep it so thick. His status couldn't protect him from everything.

"Minimal. Class I combat suits and weaponry. Some carry Class II rifles and grenades."

The female sergeant let her combat programs paint the guards who were better equipped. "Line up your targets, boys. I'm allocating them to you now."

She took a few seconds to adjust her bulky Class III varilaser rifle and set it to beam laser. Castia wanted her kill to be quick and deadly. The rest of her men spread out to take optimum firing positions. It was important to kill the guards quickly. Attacking a highly placed member of the Exploration Society was no joke. Members of the Society were protected by numerous universally signed treaties that promised torture and agony to any who dared to violate those long-standing traditions.

Too bad Captain Harry couldn't care a shit about them. As every marine flashed green on her optic display, she gave the order to fire. Bolts of pulses and beams of lethal heat and radiation instantly cut down the guards.

"Everyone advance!"

Her men needed no encouragement. The veteran soldiers and pirates all hauled their considerable bulk out in the open and crossed the meticulously gardened courtyard in a handful of seconds. The mansion went into alert then. The doors and windows were reinforced by layers of armor while entire sections of the walls changed into weapon positions.

"Take out the guns. Engineers, blow a hole through the wall!"

The automated defenses were no match to their magically enhanced weapons. What few hits they managed to spit out were harmlessly deflected by the ethereal magics Harry had woven into their military-grade armors.

But the security guards weren't stupid. The operators overcharged the pulse turrets, raising their Class potential in exchange for drastically shortening their lifespan. The hits started to stagger and scorch the invaders' armor. Castia herself absorbed three impacts that cracked the surface of her armor before the weapon emplacements were finally taken care of. The sergeant shook herself for making such a stupid mistake. _'We should have stayed into cover longer.'_

This was not the time to doubt herself though. "Is our entry point ready yet!"

"Moment!" An engineer shouted as he tweaked the complex set of explosives. "Ready in five!"

The precision blast cut neatly through the reinforced walls of the mansions, bypassing the ceramic, synthetic, metallic and crystalline layers with the force of a crashing plane. "Entry point established!"

"Go go go!"

Her squad streamed in before the smoke even cleared, ready to surprise any defenders within. She needn't worry as the foyer was clear. Castia smoothly ordered her men to make their way into the mansion, checking every chamber on the way. The panic room was underground, and if she was lucky, their target as well.

While they didn't encounter any guards in the eerily silent mansion, she didn't let down her guard. The anxiety that welled within her threatened to engulf her calm demeanor. Castia gulped. If Cleveland and the others knew of her weakness, they would have never let her lead the First Squad.

'_Don't think about it. Focus on the job.'_

As they reached the staircase leading underground, one of the forward scouts triggered a trap. A beam laser array cut down everything in the corridor like a mass of guillotines. The poor sod's armor couldn't handle the sudden discharge of heat, and practically vaporized in half.

"Get back!" Castia yelled, and quickly shot an nEMP grenade from her rifle's second barrel. The explosion tripped a lot of other defenses which practically raised the temperature to boiling level.

"Scout ahead and dispose of the body. Keep your sensors up."

They carefully swept forward this time, aware that this wasn't the end of the ride. Castia admonished herself for being too overconfident. She realized that everyone relied too much on their gifts, as if they made them invincible. It was too bad it took a casualty to jar her men back to reality. The First Squad mechanically went about their business, moving slowly to detect any traps and disabling them using a mix of grenades or precision fire.

Only after they reached the end of the tunnel did they realize where the rest of the guards had holed up. "Fuck. Take them out quick!" Castia yelled as the First Squad entered the open underground hangar. A civilian shuttle sat in the middle, and it looked as if it was in the final stages of liftoff.

The guards pummeled the intruders from entrenched positions, using Class III manual operated turrets. Most of them shot pulses, but one fired nEMP shells that splashed against her shields. "Engineer! Destroy the nEMP emplacement NOW!"

Her engineer hid behind the shield of a fellow soldier and programmed his launcher. Five long seconds passed by until he was ready to raise his heavy weapon and fire a self-propelled shell that engulfed the threat in a blaze of plasma.

With the nEMP emplacement taken out, the remaining opposition posed little threat. "Team Beta, stay behind and mop up the guards. Team Alpha, follow me!"

The squad split up. The heavy hitters headed to the nearest cover in order to take out the guard emplacements. Team Alpha withered under the constant barrage while moving forward towards the shuttle. The guards who patrolled walkway leading up to the vessel fired back with their top-of-the-line beam lasers. Her fellow marines made short work of them, but the ceiling opened up to allow the shuttle to escape.

"Oh no you don't!" The sergeant yelled and switched her launcher to contact detonation before she fired her remaining shell. The nEMP grenade smoothly sailed in the air and released its electric fury as it made contact with the rear of the shuttle.

The effects were immediate. Though the grenade was too weak to disable the shuttle entirely, its engines and grav generators lost too much power, causing the shuttle to veer out of control and crash back into the hangar.

"Disable and secure the shuttle!"

They moved quickly, using their exoskeleton to the fullest to race down the crash site. Before the pilot could recover enough to launch the shuttle back into the air, one of marines reached the cockpit and drilled his beam laser straight through the reinforced glass. An engineer blew apart the measly hatch with a standard charge, allowing the rest of the team to stream in and eliminate the remaining opposition.

Fortunately, there were no more guards.

Unfortunately, their objective was held under hostage by a crazed individual. The sub-director pressed his samsarite-plated plasma pistol against the head of his wife. "Don't come near me or I'll shoot!"

Castia grimaced behind her helmet. This would be a delicate situation to defuse. She couldn't tolerate any screw-ups. If anything happened to the captain's concubine, well…

* * *

The _Immortal Marauder_ hummed quietly as she traversed the stream of dust that shielded them from long-range sensors. But Commander Claris knew their luck wouldn't last. The Callistoans were perfectly aware of Io's Saharah and doubtlessly concocted plans to strip away that advantage. The _Marauder_ only escaped those countermeasures because the perimeter was too large to keep an eye on it all. But according to the simulation, the next target loomed close.

The military station up ahead wasn't large, but it possessed very capable long-term sensors. As soon as the Saharah thinned out, those sensors could easily be used to track their progress. Destroying it was absolutely essential in insuring the survival of the _Marauder_. Unfortunately, the small station was the type that possessed maneuvering thrusters. While they didn't make the station as mobile as a starship, it allowed the construct to shift its orbit slightly, allowing it to dodge long-range projectiles or deviate from its stable orbit over Callisto. That meant the _Marauder_ had to come close in order to get a positive identification on their target.

"Lieutenant Kenzie, have you got a lock for me yet?"

"I'm working, ma'm, but the decoys the Callistoans have thrown up are too confusing. We need to get closer."

Claris cursed. Every second that ticked past brought them closer to danger. If this operation was up to her, she would have settled for a long-range bombardment campaign. Those fancy teleportation objects were more than sufficient in crippling many of the Callistoan defenses, those with low security standards at least. Harry seemed to think differently however. He wanted to intimidate the rival power, humiliate them with his single ship and test out his fancy toys in person.

'_His temperament is still too volatile. He's too irrational when it comes to personal concerns.'_ Though that didn't surprise her too much, considering what Harry had to deal with ever since he came back from Earth. His exploits on Earth were either ignored or unmentioned. That lent an air of doubt around Harry, causing outsiders to view him as a.. clown of some sorts. The commander guessed that rescuing his fucktoy and earning a lot of credits weren't the only reasons why Harry chose to attack Callisto and in such a brazen manner. In some adolescent impulse, the captain still craved acknowledgement.

"Tracking multiple incoming emissions! They are vectoring towards us at high speed?"

"Are they ships or stationary objects?!" The Second snapped at her sensors officer.

"It's still resolving, ma'm."

"Give me an estimate, now!"

Kenzie jumped at Claris' impatient tone. "Larger than a destroyer at least, acceleration consistent with either a cruiser or a capital-grade mine."

'_Cruisers then. Damn my luck.'_ Claris thought as she analyzed the data on her own. Every subsequent observation confirmed her suspicions. The three incoming heat signatures probably already had a fix on the _Marauder_'s location, and from their intercept pattern, they meant to stay at range. Two could play that game.

"Ms. Stacy, are these heat signatures within effective range of our forward armaments?"

The weapons officer looked skeptical. "They're within extreme range, if that's what you want, ma'm. A dust storm of this composition has a negligible impact on beam lasers. Targeting however is a different problem."

As expected, but they didn't have anything else to work with at the moment. "Try your best, Stacy. Delegating target acquisition to you."

"Understood ma'm." The officer already selected her preferred target. "Firing now."

The _Immortal Marauder_ responded immediately. The demiturrets positioned at the prow of the mighty cruiser rotated and arced in accordance with the targeting data. The slow, ponderous Class VIII beam lasers only needed a few seconds to heat up before discharging a burst of vicious heat. The mass of thermal energy lanced out through the thick dust but seemed to go straight past the heat signature before dispersing many thousands of kilometers ahead.

"Target missed. Adjusting calibration. Firing again in three, two, one."

The _Marauder_ spat out another lance of energy, heedless of the incredible amount of heat the turrets generated. Cooling charms and pocket dimensions strained to leak off the excess heat, keeping the barrels cold, and therefore accurate.

Stacy's efforts paid off this time. Kenzie detected a blooming pattern from the targeted signature. "Our systems are identifying a positive hit! Detecting decompression at the least!"

'_Now the real fight begins.'_ Claris guessed as she watched the heat signatures ripple. Seeing as they weren't hit with beam lasers or particle bolts, that meant one thing. "Incoming missile barrage! Engage countermeasures!"

The point defense turrets of the cruiser opened up as soon as the swarm of missiles streamed in from a broad angle. The three enemy ships seemed to have spread their volley in order to overwhelm the _Immortal Marauder_'s point defense. In that, the three-hundred-and-twenty-seven swarmer missiles succeeded. Pulse turrets swatted the annoying warheads by the dozen, but the dust storm provided a lot of interference. Well over a hundred of those minimissiles were estimated to impact on the _Marauder_'s hull.

"Vent our pocket coolant into space!"

"Yes ma'm!" Blake answered steadily, and initiated a series of commands that opened the hatches placed around the entire hull of the ship.

The incoming attack provided a perfect opportunity to test another new defense mechanism. When Professor Zhang heard about the millions of cubic liters of coolant the crew were stuffing into pocket dimensions, he inquired whether they would lose heat inside of them. Harry had not a single clue. Intuitively, the pocket dimensions were closed systems, so any heat would merely circulate inside. Subsequent experimentation confirmed that while most of the energy did stay inside, there was a small amount of leakage. No one had a clue where that energy went, but the important fact was that it didn't matter.

For all intents and purposes, the coolant maintained their heat for a very long while. A fraction of that coolant released into open space and surrounded the ship in a haze of potent energy that effectively enlarged the _Marauder_'s targeting profile and left behind a ghost that diverted many missiles off their locks.

This didn't meant the _Marauder_ escaped unscathed, but what remained of their enemy's impressive volley might as well have been a fleabite. The crew didn't even had to cocoon themselves to ride out the impacts.

"Enough playing around. Close in on C2 and rip her apart with our beam lasers."

"Moving to intercept. Permission to lower our mass, ma'm?"

"Permission granted."

The Helmsman grinned, and flipped a switch that triggered the magical subroutines that Harry had set up to lower the ship's mass. While there were certain risks involved in lowering the mass of such an immense vessel under high acceleration, Claris deemed it necessary in order to cut off the next missile wave. _'If these cruisers pack missile launchers, then that means that they are vulnerable face-to-face.'_

The sudden burst of acceleration, well past the capabilities of a frigate, clearly surprised the trio of invisible enemies. After precious seconds of shock, they finally reacted in a jerked manner and moved in to close their formation. But by then, it was too late, as the _Marauder_ came crashing into visual range of the lead cruiser with her beam lasers tearing it apart.

"Detecting moderate battle damage from C2, but it is still combat capable. She's firing her forward pulse cannons!"

Claris didn't think as she rattled her next commands. "Pivot our starboard broadside and fire a high-powered pulse volley at C2! Helmsman, I want you to give our forward armaments an opportunity to fire at C3 as you do so."

Helmsman Nicholas obeyed as the pulses impacted upon the hull of the _Immortal Marauder_. The Class IX particle bolts washed over the reinforced hull sections of the magically enhanced plating. The wards and charms bled off the energies as best they could, leaving only small pits and a few blown out subsystems as casualties. Due to the nature of the wards, pulses provided the least amount of damage.

Pure heat from beam lasers or pure kinetic energy from railgun rounds concentrated their destructive potential in only one type of damage, rendering half of the wards useless. Due to the dual nature of pulses as carrying both heat and physical energy, the wards only had to strain half as much, rendering them resistant to further volleys even in close range.

"Our starboard varilasers are locked and ready, ma'm."

"Fire!"

The cruiser momentarily shuddered as an immense boom rumbled throughout the hull. The _Marauder_'s immense cruiser-grade broadside returned the volley of her Callistoan counterpart with considerable more success. Lacking the magical upgrades that Harry's ship enjoyed, the enemy cruiser buckled under the weight of fire. The momentary instability caused her next volley to miss half her next rounds, providing Claris with a free shot.

C1 and C3 are entering visual range and are firing pulse volleys!"

'_Shit!'_ Claris cursed as she saw that her ship was being boxed in. Even as the _Marauder_'s broadside crippled C2, the new entrants were beginning to cause serious damage.

"Tch. Scramble our strike craft and direct them to attack C1. Is C2 crippled yet?"

"Estimating 80% loss of combat effectiveness. Unfortunately, we do not possess enough information to know whether they possess a torpedo launcher."

'_Ships that usually boast missile launchers usually don't have torpedo launchers.'_ Claris guessed, and took her gamble. "Reverse our targeting priority. Helmsman, turn our port broadside towards C3. Target C2 if you can."

"They're on to us." Lieutenant Kenzie remarked. "The cruisers are positioning themselves so that we can only lock onto one target in time."

Claris expected this from competent opponents. "Make sure that C2 can only target our roof then."

The next few minutes passed as the lone cruiser fought back against three of her number. The fighters used their upgrades to the fullest and accelerated far past their conventional speeds, gaining on C1 before the cruiser could even aim her point defense at the deathly craft. Housewife let out a penetrator bomb which used the heightened momentum to barrel right through the bridge of the warship, momentarily crippling her command structure. The remaining fighters used the distraction to eliminate the point defense turrets that riddled the length of the vessel, leaving a clear passage for their second bomber.

The newly recruited pilot carefully let the targeting systems lock on the probable location of the enemy cruiser's reactor and let out his payload. The magically enhanced penetrator bore straight through the rear hull and buried itself deeply within the inner compartments of the ship, managing only to graze the protective shell of the reactor.

Then it exploded, engulfing the entire reactor room with pressure and heat. The reactor followed soon after, causing the entire vessel to break apart from the nuclear blast. The _Marauder_'s strike craft barely escaped the brunt of the pressure wave.

"That's cutting it rather close!" Trident said over the comm link.

"Shut it." Deadman commanded. "We still have to take care of C2. The _Marauder_ is too distracted with C3 to finish the damaged chaser off."

By the time the fighters punched the second cruiser's reactor, Harry's ship had already pounded the third cruiser's hull into a pulp. While C3 was still capable of limited flight, all of her armaments were taken out. Claris couldn't afford the time to destroy the surviving craft completely. Reinforcements were surely homing in on the incredible heat signatures the two reactor explosions had caused.

"Kenzie, do you have a fix on the sensor station yet?"

"Y-Y-Yes ma'm! I think so, at least."

The data routed to the commander's terminal. _'Only a seventy percent chance, huh. Well I don't have any other choice.'_

"Recall our strike craft and head towards these coordinates at full speed. Prepare another supertorpedo."

"Aye aye, ma'm!"

Claris was glad that the _Marauder_ handled herself well against three of her number. Facing three cruisers in brutal short-range combat with only a few pierced compartments was a favorable outcome. Even when the cruisers penetrated the _Marauder_'s thick plating, the damage to the interior stayed decidedly modest as Harry's many enhancements did their work in venting much of the roiling heat into empty pocket dimensions.

But after she finished this target, Claris didn't intend to risk her ship against other targets of opportunities. While Harry had developed an extensive list of additional targets to strike at under the cover of the Saharah, the resistance would only grow stronger the further she neared the moon. First it was a flotilla of frigates. Now it was a squadron of cruisers. The woman feared what might come next. _'Best not be too greedy. The actions we've performed this day has given our technicians plenty of data to evaluate our magical improvements.'_

As Kenzie finally achieved a definite identification of the sensor station, Claris ordered her ship to pivot on her axis and release the supertorpedo meant for the target. She hardly waited for the station to be destroyed as she ordered Nicholas to leave the sector. The female officer only hoped that they encountered no further resistance now that she started to move away from important hotspots.

'_The longer we stick around, the more the dust disperses, and the higher the odds of detection.'_ Despite the risks, Harry had forbidden her to leave the perimeter. He wanted the _Marauder_ close at hand, ready to fire torpedoes or come rescue a beleaguered unit. Claris had no choice to obey, even if she found the orders foolish. _'He's becoming too accustomed in taking risks.'_

How long would it be until their luck turned to the worse?

* * *

The ship shook and shuddered under Harry's feet as his vessel engaged in battle. Every instinct inside of him screamed in alarm, yet he could do nothing to reign them in. His body knew it was in danger and wanted to lash out against everything that threatened it. But his enemies were far away, fighting on ships so immense that his most powerful spells could merely achieve a dent. This wasn't his battle. Claris had the situation well under hand.

The boy had a different battle to fight. Beyond all of the bombings and the retrieval of his concubine, he wanted to get to the bottom of the psi-ops. That they came from Callisto was a fact. Yet the corpses kept in cryo storage couldn't tell him anything. Where was this facility located? How long did this project went on? Were the Blacks involved in this somehow? And how did they exactly amplify the accidental magic into a force of nature?

Harry had many questions, some of which might be of vital importance in his fight against his descendants. He needed research data, logs and living captives. Anything that could be used to further his understanding of magic and its modern applications. And even if none of the data held any applicable uses, the destruction of the facility would end a potential threat. While the wizard had never been a fan of the Statute of Secrecy, he knew that he had only managed to survive this long because his enemies were ignorant of magic. He still lacked too much strength to allow him to operate in the open.

As his thoughts wandered, the marine squads were beginning to return by portkey. Harry had sent many of them to strategically important locations such as government buildings and military bases which might contain any data about the psi-ops projects. While those who returned so far came up with nothing in that regard, they brought plenty of other spoils. Money, data, even hostages.

Such as the blubbering fool that the latest squad deposited in front of his feet. Harry raised a single eyebrow, then reminded himself that his helmet hid his face. "Who's he?"

"That's Governor Peterson. If anyone should know about classified projects, it should be him."

Harry nodded approvingly. "Good work. Replenish your supplies and stand by for your next deployments."

The sergeant saluted and directed his squad towards the armory. Harry watched the frightened overweight administrator crawl away with amusement. It seemed the marines had already broken a leg. With an absent wave of his wand, he paralyzed the governor, then turned him over. The captain removed his helmet to eye the crying official with his implant.

Not that it displayed anything useful. The overwhelming fear overrode all other visual clues. Well, it wasn't as if Harry was used to it. He lifted his heavy boot and shoved it right into Peterson's gut. "There there little piggy, this won't take too long. All I want to know is the location of the psi-ops facility."

From the tiny intake of breath and the minute way his eyebrows rose, the governor clearly recognized what Harry referred to. The wizard grinned. Without his fancy eye implant, he would have never recognized these signs. He ground his boot into the helpless man's stomach.

"Don't bother to lie. The consequences can be quite.. painful."

The pathetic rat spilled his guts even before Harry began his torture. He found it truly pathetic that such a weak-willed man was even capable of leading an administration. Then Peterson confessed that he was merely a plant who took directions from others.

"Who?" Harry asked as he stomped on his victim's wrist.

Peterson let out a yell and started to hyperventilate. "I-I-I."

Then, something surprising happened. The man's head drooped as all life suddenly vanished from his stuffed body. Harry nudged the corpse, and tried to revive it with a handful of spells, but all his efforts came to nothing.

'_That's strange. The governor was so eager into telling me everything about the psi-ops. Why would he rather drop dead than reveal who his puppet master is?'_

Unless it was planted into him. While Harry himself knew how that could be accomplished by magic, he didn't quite rule out the muggles yet. They had so many toys that they were easily capable of replicating this feat by technological means. _'This is getting nowhere. I don't care a single fuck who is pulling the strings behind Callisto, whether it's the Maffia or another outside power.'_

At least he had a fix on the psi-ops, though Harry didn't find much reason to be happy. For one, the facility was located on the surface of the moon, not at some far-off space station or asteroid base. More importantly, the entrance was deep underwater. Somehow, the wizard didn't think a simple hovercar could take him down that deep.

'_I can't portkey my hovercar down Callisto, and doesn't have underwater capability anyway. That means I have to make my way to the nearest naval base on foot and hijack some kind of underwater vehicle.'_

It wasn't much of a plan, he admitted, and the machines were likely too complicated for him to operate himself. Well, he had the _Imperious_ curse for that. Harry calmly stepped away from the corpse and went over towards a rack that held an array of portkeys that led to several locations around the globe. He spotted the portkey nearest to his destination.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	48. II: Delayed Fulfillment - Repost

May 6, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Delayed Fulfillment_

* * *

Selner smiled vindictively as she struggled in the grip of her ex-husband. He was currently in a stalemate with the heavily armed soldiers that tore the mansion apart in their pursuit of her. She didn't doubt the origin of the marines. Only Harry was stupid enough to attack the home of a Society executive directly. While the consequences would undoubtedly be severe, she felt a momentary sense of relief that her lover cared for her. Even as James pressed his pistol against her temple, she felt content.

"Stand down, Mr. Selner." The female sergeant tried for the umpteenth time.

James bared his teeth at the intruders who had the temerity to invade his privacy. "You need her. That little boy captain sent you here, did he? Well tell him that he'll _never_ get my wife. She's mine, MINE!"

"Oh, get a break." Lilliane rolled her eyes. James was having one of his mood swings again. "I was never yours. What spark we had during our college days is long dead. Just accept it and move on."

"Silence, bitch!" Her husband snarled and momentarily loosened his grip to punch her in the face. "You're still delusional. Just shut your trap and let me take you away. I'll cure you from all the horrors that pirate captain inflicted on you."

"For Mercury's sake, I'm not suffering from the Stockholm Syndrome! I simply HATE you."

"That's not true." The man gasped rather weakly. Almost frantically he turned her head so he could gaze upon her eyes. "I'll get you help, I promise. I know I've made mistakes these last few months, but this time I'll take you to Venus myself. They have the best mental care facilities in the solar system. You'll be safe there."

But her eyes only oozed pure anger. "Don't excuse your failings on others and don't treat me like a child. Just get it through your thick skull that the love we held for each other doesn't exist anymore."

But James still denied her words. "Hush now. That's the trauma that's talking. I know of a few good memory programmers on Venus. They'll take away all those awful memories." His eyes suddenly widened as another thought entered his mind. "They can even take you all the way back to your college age, when our love for each other burned the brightest. We can have a second chance at our relationship!"

"Y-You're crazy!" Selner thrashed harder against her husband's possessive grasp. "I'd rather die than let you program me into your doll."

"Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds." Castia cut in. "But my orders are to take Mrs. Selner. We _will_ take her with us."

"My wife is none of your business. I'll never leave her alone again." The executive spat at the intruders.

"This is your last warning, Mr. Selner. Release the woman or—"

"Or what?" The man laughed hysterically. "There's nothing you can do. My pistol is set to trigger automatically if anything happens to my vital signs."

A few seconds passed. Then, Castia lowered her rifle. Her subordinates followed likewise.

"Yes, good, good. Now stand back and let us leave in peace. No one needs to die today." The sub-director slowly inched his way forward and momentarily let go of his wife to press the hatch control. The shuttle activated some emergency protocol that lowered a sheet of substitute plating that covered the opening left by the previously destroyed hatch.

Feeling secure in his victory, James turned to take the pilot's seat, only to find that an armored body mass had snuck up right to his side. Faster than the civilian could react, the marine thrust out his arm, which not only diverted James' pistol arm, but ripped it right off the socket. The plasma bolt that left the pistol's barrel washed harmlessly against an empty seat.

"AAAAUUUUU!" James collapsed to his knees in unbearable pain. The incredible shock of losing his entire arm practically shut off all his higher thought processes. Only the agony of twisted flesh and bone kept him conscious.

The stealth scout smirked as he saw the smug bastard cry like a sissy. James had been a pain in the ass when he took his own wife hostage. It took the marine well over a minute to discretely expand the gap in the shuttle's windscreen, then fit his entire armored bulk through the opening without making a single sound.

An ordinary soldier could never have managed such a feat. But he was part of Harry's First Squad. He was the best, and Harry's many magical gifts only made him more elusive. After congratulating himself for a job well done, he reached the side hatch and pressed the controls to open it again.

"Well done, scout. I'll be sure to commend you in my report." His sergeant complimented him as she stepped inside. She slung her rifle onto her back and released her helmet in order to reassure her objective. "Mrs. Selner? Captain Harry Antares has come to rescue you."

"It was about time." Selner muttered. "And don't call me 'Mrs.' Selner." Her eyes glared hatefully at her paralyzed spouse. "I'm divorced."

Castia took another look at the pitiful man. Despite the pain, she could sense some traces of defiance. "He's not going to give up on you." The sergeant bent down to pick up the sub-director's plasma pistol and primed the weapon towards its former owner. "Do you want us to take care of him?"

Selner shook her head. "No." She lifted herself from her perch and approached the female marine. The doctor took the plasma pistol off her gauntleted grip. "Let me do it myself. Can I.. have a moment, please?"

"Sure."

The marines – after making sure the shuttle was shut down and didn't contain any traps – left Selner with her weakening husband. The man had lost a lot of blood by now, and could barely even summon the strength to listen.

"James." She whispered as she lowered by his side. The back of her hand caressed his wheezing cheeks. "I'm flattered that you care for me. In a way, that was your most endearing trait. Do you remember how we first met at college? You complained endlessly to your gang of sycophants about being grouped up with a scholarship girl for a course project."

"Scholar..ship.."

"Mm? Yes.. I fell sick, and couldn't maintain the grades to keep my scholarship. I fell into a vicious cycle of depression and disease, and if you hadn't been there to cover my tuition and treatment, I wouldn't be here today. I owe you my career and my life. You've been so gallant to me that I couldn't help but fall for your charms. Of course, it also didn't hurt that you were well hung."

Selner chuckled softly at herself for being such a slut in her college years. "You dated me when you could have gotten better. There were plenty of women who were smarter, wealthier and more refined than me. But your heart was in the right place, and you didn't let anyone, not even your parents, interfere with out blossoming relationship. Wealth, class, and power didn't matter. For a time, I wished I would be in your arms forever."

Her husband let out a gurgle from his throat. His eyes spun about the room, as if there was nothing to focus on. The blood that squirted out of his empty shoulder began to subside. As if noticing his wounds for the first time, Selner let out a 'tut-tut' from her lips and pressed the heated barrel of the plasma gun against his arm wound. The sizzling heat painfully cauterized the wounds, but successfully closed off the bleeding.

"There. I can't have you bleeding out on me too quickly. I'm not finished yet." Selner eyed the fleshy gunk scorched on her plasma pistol with distaste and attempted to scrape it off by rubbing it against the deck. "I was so idealistic back then. College had a way of stoking your dreams. We read all those books and took so many exams for what, an empty diploma? How naïve!"

Her free hand grasped her husband's neck. Selner sadistically pressed her fingernails into the flesh. "You often ask me where it all went wrong. Well now I'm giving you the answer. As soon as you graduated from college and followed your parents' footsteps, you started to change. You seemed utterly consumed in your career at the almighty Exploration Society. You were such a sweet and idealistic young man before. But all of the backstabbing, maneuvering and ass-kissing you were doing almost daily turned you into a cold-hearted bastard. You grew more repulse the higher you ascended the ranks of the Society. Do you know why I pursued a PhD? It was to get away from your slimy claws."

Tears welled in the sub-director's eyes as he heard his wife pour her heart to him. Selner tenderly brushed the droplets aside. "All of those studies, all of those off-site assignments, they were simply means to get away from your sight. It pained me to be in the same room as you. I couldn't stand to listen to your incessant schemes. Each anniversary only continued to blacken your heart. By the time you reached your current position, I felt there was nothing left of that sweet and generous young man that helped me in my time of need. The current you would have left me to rot and suffer, or blackmail me in exchange of some favor."

James frantically shook his head, but Selner merely dug her fingernails deeper. "Don't pretend to lie, _dear_. After all, didn't you imprison me in your mansion for an entire year, tying me in your bed and ravaging my body whenever you wanted to scratch your itch? Halfway throughout my ordeal you didn't even bother to send any doctors to cure my supposed trauma. I guess they all stated that I never suffered from the Stockholm Syndrome?"

The minute twitches that James convulsed only confirmed her suspicions. "You continued to hope that our relationship could go back to those idyllic days, but you never bothered to treat me well enough to deserve it. All the time, you've been finding ways to seduce, then abuse me, never realizing that the change had to come from _your_ end. Yes, my dear, it was _you_, not me, who ruined what previously existed between ourselves. In the last few months, you didn't even bother to show me an inch of your affection. You tried at least in the first few months of my captivity. But in the last handful of weeks, you stopped talking to me entirely, and treated me as another trophy."

Selner released her hold on James and rose up on her feet. She then aimed her pistol at her former tormentor's face. "What I've endured under your care was a thousand times worse than what Captain Harry inflicted on my body. Sure, there were some days when Harry was especially cruel to me, but he was overwhelmingly better than you in one, important aspect. He loved me. The captain may have be a murderous brute, but in bed, he was as gentle as a dove when it came to my feelings. He treats me like a lady, and cares for my feelings. I love him for that, you know. Someday, I hope Harry recognizes how deep I care for him, and that he can get over his loss and take our relationship to the next level."

A few fantasies swirled in her thoughts as she let her affection for Harry swell over her body. Then she heard her ex make an ugly sound, which broke her stream of thoughts. Selner frowned at her whimpering spouse. "Oh. Yes. There's still you. I can't have you interfering with my happiness again. I hope there won't be any hard feelings over this, but I really must insure you will never be capable of harming me again."

Lily gave James one last smile, then aimed her pistol towards his crotch. She released a full blast of white hot plasma at his well-endowed nether regions, burning it in acid flames along with the rest of James' waist. Normally, Selner would have been horrified to hear the horrific screams, but for just this time, the doctor felt elated. A huge weight seemed to disappear from her shoulders. Even as the plasma cooked the flesh into ash, and penetrated deeply within the bowels, she felt happy to kill her former husband. _'Is this what Harry feels whenever he executes someone? I can imagine how addictive this rush of power is. I shouldn't let Harry get dependent on this sensation.'_

After making sure that James was dead, Selner dropped the plasma pistol and left the shuttle. It was time to become a concubine once more.

* * *

On the other side of the moon, a different squad appeared. The marines that portkeyed to the site almost immediately recovered and spread out in a circle to identify any immediate threats. The guest that came along did not adjust as good as the others though, and dropped to his knees. Professor Zhang felt disoriented by the alien method of teleportation. It felt as if a great hook caught his navel and pulled him through space. Already dozens of theories swirled in his mind as he tried to make sense of the mode of travel. Then he shook his head. _'I can theorize later. I have a job to do first.'_

"Professor, are you injured?"

"No, I'm alright." Zhang replied and picked himself up while holding his pistol with his ill-practiced hands. "Continue with the plan, men."

The sergeant nodded and issues a series of commands that saw his squad split up. They traversed the blooming gardens and passed the parking lot to surround the structure up ahead. The students who were hanging about were frightened by the appearance of the soldiers, and started to pack up their books and meals and make their way out. It took only a few minutes before the marines were in position.

Their appearance on the campus of the West-Jovian University of Technology didn't go unnoticed. Security guards hesitantly approached the marines and requested them to stand down.

"This is it, professor."

The sergeant was asking him whether he was having second thoughts. But Zhang had no second thoughts. He was utterly committed to this course of action. "Proceed, sergeant."

The marines shot down the security guards, causing the bystanders to scream and run in terror. The soldiers ignored the rabble and instead placed precise charges against the walls of the Applied Sciences Faculty. As soon as the planters took cover, the sergeant triggered the explosives, collapsing walls and incinerating classrooms.

The structure immediately went into lockdown, as planned. The professor had co-designed the anti-terrorism countermeasures himself. He knew exactly what the explosions triggered, and what the occupants inside were doing next. He already imagined the befuddled professors and clueless students running towards the emergency shelters underground. Emergency guide lights placed along the corridors conveniently guided in the right direction. Due to the nature of the explosions, and the continued presence of intruders outside, none of them would be exiting outside. The few that did were promptly gunned down by his marines.

After the initial deaths, the remaining occupants of the faculty fled to their shelters. Zhang went forward, entering the halls of his former workplace, followed closely by his escort. The familiar décor sparked memories, both pleasant and those less so. _'How long has it been since I last walked through this corridor?'_

The former researcher and lecturer remembered the sensation keenly. He was a tenured professor in charge of his own research unit. The other researchers envied his position, and were dismayed he held it so long. Their pathetic power plays were easily deflected, for Zhang felt at home amidst the sharks. He played the game better than anyone in the faculty, bar the dean himself.

"Over here." Zhang said as he gestured towards the closed reinforced hatch that led to the emergency shelter underneath. "I still have the codes. Let me try it first."

The number he put in the terminal still worked, but it mattered little as the machine failed all the other tests. "Damn, I guess they've erased me from their systems. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way then."

Cutting a hole through the thick hatch proved no problem for the soldiers with their beam lasers, though they needed to vent the heat once in a while. Slowly, but surely, the riflemen cut out a smooth rectangle. An explosion later thrust the mangled piece aside, allowing the outsiders entry to the sanctuary within.

The first thing the marines did was to deploy a specialized weapon that let loose a focused nEMP blast which scrambled all of the electronics inside the chamber, as well as paralyzing everyone who huddled inside. They then set a jammer which blocked all communications inside the space.

"Agh!"

The blast wasn't all that strong, and the people eventually recovered from the blast.

"What's going on?"

"What do you want with us?"

"Please don't kill us!"

"SHUT UP!" Zhang yelled, using his helmet's amplification function. When that didn't work, he shot his pistol against the ceiling, which only caused the students to scream and panic. "I said, SHUT UP!"

It took them a minute to calm down the crowd as the marines stepped in to beat a few of the troublemakers into submission. Several hundreds of students along with a score of faculty members stood huddled against each other, fearing what might come next.

"Alright. Now, I want all of the students to separate from the staff. All research assistants, professors and guest lecturers should stand to the left. Over here."

It took a while to get the group sorted out. A few rebellious spirits tried to hide amongst the wrong group, but Zhang recognized most of the malcontents by face. After shooting a few of them in the head, the rest didn't play any tricks.

By now, sirens could be heard outside. "The enforcers have arrived." The sergeant told Zhang. "I'll have half of my men hold them off, but we can't stay long."

"Understood. This will not take too much time." The former professor then turned towards the students. "Everyone who is not an employee of the university may leave."

Many still couldn't believe what he said, but a few brave souls didn't wait for the others as they ran through the hatch and away into safety. Seeing that none of the terrorists shot them down, the rest of the student group quickly followed. Zhang watched them leave with a sardonic expression. _'At least they should slow down the enforcers.'_

As soon as the last student exited the chamber, the marines set up a makeshift screen in order to close off the shelter. They then proceeded to cuff the remaining prisoners.

"Now that the innocents are gone, we can start in earnest." Zhang began and lifted the helmet from his suit, revealing his identity to the staff.

"You-you're still alive?!"

"I tended my resignation some time ago, did I not?"

"We thought it was a prank." The dean said. "Doctor Zhang, we all grieved when we heard the _Helical Visage_ was captured by pirates. I think I speak for all of us that we are relieved to see you alive and—"

"—And what? Back here, with a troop of deathly soldiers at my beck and call? Don't bullshit me, Frank." He then swept his gaze towards the entire assembly. "So which one of you inherited my professorship?"

"..I did." A mustachioed man stepped forward. "If you want to hurt someone, you can take it out on me, but leave the others alone."

"How noble of you, Dr. Charleston." Zhang hissed as he stomped over to the man who took his cherished position and pointed his pistol at the academic. "Were you the one who set me up?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid!" The Asian roared. "You leaked the _Visage'_s course to the pirates so that they can accomplish what all you incompetents never achieved."

"Mercury, Zhang, we never wanted that! We don't even have access to the _Visage_'s course. None of us did!"

"You lie!" He shouted and slammed the back of his armored fist against Charleston's jaw. Zhang let his breathing slow before donning a smile. "I don't actually care anymore who arranged for my death. I ought to thank you, actually."

"..What.. do you mean, sir?"

Ah, now came the cusp. Smiling wider, he went for his pack and retrieved a miniature projector. He dropped it to the ground and let it activate. The air in front of them materialized into the abstract of a research paper. Zhang stood back and let the researchers read the entire text.

"Magic? Extra-dimensional energies? This is preposterous! Have you gone mad, Dr. Zhang?"

"On the contrary, my colleagues. I have witnessed many of these feats in person. The laws of physics are not set in stone."

As proof, he switched the projector to run a video of several instances of Harry's magic. Turning a metal chair into a comfortable recliner. Conjuring up a pillow from nowhere. Turning a pen into a living rat. Testing a magically enhanced synthetic fork that could lift up a weight in excess of a ton.

"This.. this is a fabrication. You have _no_ proof that all of these feats are real. You're delusional, professor."

"Dr. Charleston, if magic isn't real, how can you explain this?" Zhang then went forward, grabbed Charleston's collar, pried open his mouth, and poured in a liquid from a vial Zhang had ready. After making sure his colleague swallowed the liquid, he sat back to enjoy the spectacle.

"Wh-a-at's happening?" Charleston stammered as he felt his body heat up. His skin started to feel rubbery. He looked at his hands only to see them melting into.. chicken wings! "NO! Whyyaaaaa-"

In front of the horrified crowd of researchers, the professor of materials science slowly turned into a giant rooster. The creature squawked helplessly as its body turned more grotesque. When the transformation was finally complete, there was nothing left of the brilliant man.

"This can't be.." Someone muttered. "A virus, a biological contaminant, a weapon of some sorts."

"But where does the transition get its energy?"

"Surely not from the higher dimensions. That's simply impossible.. is it?"

Zhang clapped his hands to get the crowd's attention. "This is only a sliver of what I have access to. Ever since my forced induction into Captain Harry's service, I have experienced many examples of feats that defy the rules that we thought were ironclad. These miracles made me realize that there is much that humanity doesn't know. I wish to thank you all once again, for giving me the opportunity to introduce our race with the principles of this wonderful force."

"Professor," The sergeant whispered in their private comm link. "The enforcers are preparing for a charge. You have two minutes until we have to leave. Finish it up."

Zhang nodded, as if to himself. "Now, this project is too momentous for me to handle alone. I don't have quite the expertise in other subjects, particularly in the field of abstracts and energy systems. I have therefore chosen a handful amongst you to assist me in this endeavor, and become my co-authors for this groundbreaking paper."

"What.. about the rest of us?"

The professor retrieved a remote. "Most of you are trash."

He pressed the first button, causing the cuffs of over half of the staff to emit a lethal shock of electricity that fried them to death. The remaining survivors screamed in fright. "A few of you I simply don't like."

The second button injected a lethal dose of poison in the wrist, causing the unfortunate victims to convulse in agony as their nervous systems turned on themselves.

"Now, only two groups remain. Five of you are the lucky ones, for I need all of your extensive knowledge in order to assist me in my research venture." Zhang pressed the third button, which forced the five men and women on their knees. The marines swiftly brought and tied them together before portkeying them to the brig of the _Immortal Marauder_.

About ten or so academics remained. "As for the rest of you," Zhang glowered at the collection tenured professors. These were the people he suspected the most of being involved in the attempt to remove him. "You deserve a fate worse than death. I shall take more than just your lives from you. I will strip you of your dignity, your accomplishments and your identity."

Zhang pressed the final button, which caused them to pass out. After tying them together and portkeying them to another cell on the ship, the marines readied themselves for extraction. One of the soldiers detached a large pack from his back and set the charge. As the group were taken away from the shelter, the bomb ticked down the timer until it reached the end.

Nothing was left of the faculty building by the time the enforcers breached the underground shelter.

* * *

The portkey worked without a hitch. Harry appeared safely on the surface of the moon. With his luck, he half expected to end up in a recycler, or somewhere midair. Instead, he appeared in the middle of a home in a rural town. Without alerting the occupants of his arrival, the intruder sneaked out and nicked their hovercar using the software suite built into his combat suit. He programmed in the destination and let the car drive itself towards the port city far off into the west. The journey took only half an hour, though he had to exceed the speed limit to reach the city that fast.

Harry finally stepped out on the streets, barely a block away from the naval base. A few bystanders looked at him oddly as he scouted the area, and he belatedly realized that his custom-built suit attracted was odd by the standards of the locals. He had to glamour his appearance and cast a notice-me-not charm in order to skulk around unnoticed.

After a long period of shadowing off-duty personnel he finally tracked down a submersible pilot. The pretty lieutenant giggled sociably along with her friends as they gossiped about the men they served alongside with. Since Harry had no intention of waiting for hours while listening to all of the women's inane stories, he cast a mild jinx at his target that made her want to visit the bathroom. As soon as she stepped inside the restroom the wizard _Imperioused_ the pilot.

"Go back to the base and head for your submersible. I will be following behind you, but do not mention my presence to anyone."

"Yes, sir."

Harry followed his victim under the cover of his invisibility cloak. He encountered a handful of checkpoints along the way, and decided to apparate to the other side rather than risk stepping through the sensors. After several such instances the lieutenant finally reached an underground bay which hosted a variety of underwater vessels. The lieutenant went to the far end and opened the hatch for a van-sized vehicle. The insides were cramped but Harry didn't complain.

"Now take me to the underwater psi-ops base three hundred kilometers to the west."

"My apologies sir, but there are no underwater bases within a three hundred kilometer radius of our location."

Swearing a little, Harry reached for his pocket and retrieved a datapad. He had scribbled down a few of the passcodes that Governor Peterson had blubbered out before his untimely demise. "Use these codes. One of them will unlock the coordinates in your navigation computer.

The third code did the trick. With the destination set, the lieutenant fooled the base's traffic control and managed to get the bay doors to open. The trip to the underwater base proceeded quietly after that. Harry half-expected the base to realize they had been fooled and set a pursuit force after him, but amazingly he hadn't fallen into bad luck quite yet. _'But there's no telling it will hold.'_

Entering a base filled with artificially enhanced magicals with the power of the elements at their command was exceedingly foolish. Harry knew very little of what he could face in that den of torture. While the wizard was confident he could deal with any number of doped up kids with his extensive dueling experience, he didn't know what other horrors awaited inside the base. Professor Zhang had told him that the procedures that produced the psi-ops commandos might not be the only one in existence. The researchers in charge of the project may have produced variants, or applied them to different kinds of subjects.

Yet despite the risks, he had to see for himself. The fear of the unknown never stopped Harry before. This expedition was far too important for his future. Harry had to know what the psi-ops research yielded. Beyond the data and theories, what he really wanted to uncover was a weapon so potent that it could render him into a god.

The secret of telepathy.

Harry had hungrily pursued this weapon since the early days of his descent into darkness. Legilimency along with Occlumency was a rare art in the Wizarding World. Like animagi, the mental arts were kept off the curriculum in order to provide the privileged a monopoly in power. But even if one had access to the teachings, either from instruction or from musty old tomes, learning and mastering them required both practice and aptitude.

Like combat magic, the only effective way to practice Legilimency and Occlumency was by using them against another practitioner. Having roamed the world alone for much his life, the fugitive never had the opportunity to practice properly. The second condition, aptitude, made it harder for Harry to become proficient. Snape's mindrapes still had a scarring effect on his mind, and unlike Dumbledore he never acquired the supple finesse to control his mental exertions. He was too impulsive and angry to focus his mind into a weapon or shield. The best he could hope for was a weak measure of empathy, itself the product of an ancient ritual. Not that it did him any good, since he could only reliably detect fear.

To find out that muggles had succeeded where he had failed made him both happy and concerned. On one hand, he was glad others did all the hard work for him. On the other hand, he didn't know the extent of the project's success. Were the researchers only able to draw out the mindreading ability from underaged magicals? Or did they actually succeed with adult subjects? Was it perhaps possible that telepaths have lived amongst humanity for decades, stealing valuable secrets from the minds of the elites and sell them to the highest bidder?

Whatever the case, he would soon find out. In the meantime, Harry entertained himself by groping the body of his thrall. While not as beautiful as his pet, the navy lieutenant had a delectable pair of lips. The boy knew he shouldn't get distracted like this when he was on a job, but he had nothing else to do. _'Too bad she'll die in a few weeks as her mind breaks apart.'_

Harry almost felt sorry. Then he pulled down his zipper.

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	49. II: Breaking the Barrier - Repost

June 5, 2012  
Repost: November 15, 2012  
Not Proofread  
By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes:** Removed.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Breaking the Barrier_

* * *

Lord Wellesley laid down his fork and knife and pushed away the plate that held the remains of his dessert. He contemplated the information he gained from this meeting as he sipped a glass of vintage Earth wine.

Captain Rysa, the CEO of Firestorm Solutions, soon finished her own cake and ordered a smooth glass of whiskey. The fleet admiral found it oddly amusing that she imbibed so much during their little get-togethers. She had clearly reached the point of disorientation now.

"You know.. Welles.. I used to eat up handsome brats like you when I was a decade or two younger.." She hiccupped a little before continuing. "When I finished up, I'd cut off the balls and poured acids into the wound before letting them go." She let out an obnoxious laugh at the memories. "It always cracked me up. Those poor fellows were better off if they died."

The noble's mouth curled in distaste. Hearing the former pirate captain's diatribes was one of the more unpleasant chores he had to endure.

After all, alcohol was one of the most effective ways to loosen up a compulsion placed upon a person. Wellesley recognized the signs fairly quickly since he requested their first meeting over dinner. Rysa hadn't been working very hard to hide the fact that she was restricted by a mind-altering condition. Ever since then, he continued to invite the CEO for dinner and supplied the woman with the finest liquor. The credits were well spent.

So with a weary heart, he tuned out her rants as best as he could until the woman finally reached a subject closer to his interests.

"Man.. my boss.. shareholder.. whatever.. he's a control freak. You don't know how.. how far he's gone to hide his _precious_ secrets.."

"Was he the one who put the compulsion on you?" Wellesley asked as innocently as he could.

Naturally Rysa denied his statement. "Fuck no! He.. he's a great boss. He spared me from a fate worse than death. He would never mistreat… miss…" She trailed off, unable to speak any further.

Wellesley could read between the lines easily enough. He realized fairly soon in his meetings that the compulsion prevented Rysa from revealing secrets but also speaking ill about Harry Antares. The captain had been shrewd enough to circumvent the restriction by exaggerating her praise. In one meeting, she plainly called the boy a tactical genius, while everyone knew that his second-in-command was the real commander of the ship. This attuned his senses and he became very adept in deciphering Rysa's true meaning. Too bad she couldn't go too far with her rebellion, however. The compulsion always reasserted itself when Rysa tried to be too obvious with her hints.

"By the way, your shipyard is remarkably well-defended. Our inspectors could find no fault in your security protocols. Do you have any weak spots at all in your facilities?"

Rysa snorted. "Anything that can destroy the station can wipe out the shipyard as well."

Interesting that she could say that openly, Wellesley noted. She didn't need to deny obvious truths.

"But on a smaller level we've prepared for every contingency. Anyone bearing pulses, beam lasers or kinetic weaponry will find a very unpleasant surprise."

Wellesley didn't miss the omission. Rysa stated that the facility prepared for 'every contingency', yet she omitted nEMP from the list. Perhaps that might prove more successful than other measures? He had known from previous talks that Rysa always skirted around nEMP as if it was taboo.

"It sounds like you have covered all your bases. Would you like to have another shot?"

Rysa raised her glass and grinned rather wickedly. "Sure. Then I want a taste of you."

The fleet admiral groaned internally while he maintained his perfectly composed smile. If there was one thing he hated more than endure a drunken woman's presence, it was her blatant attempts to bed him. His hand curled into a sign, and their waiter slipped a subtle solution in Rysa's glass. The CEO gulped mixture in a single swallow and promptly fell asleep.

He'd rather shoot himself than making love with a woman past her prime. "Mr. Vanmar, please arrange an escort for my guest. Send her back to her apartment."

His aide nodded and called up an armed shuttle.

After finishing his glass, Wellesley wiped his hands and left the restaurant. The insights he gained this day had painted a clearer picture of the secrets that Captain Harry hid so desperately. Wellesley was fairly certain now that he had access to advanced – perhaps even alien – technology, which conferred him several unique advantages that allowed him to accomplish unheard feats. While the noble only had positive proof that Harry had the capability to change a living person's genetic makeup, that wasn't the extent of the captain's secrets. The devastation that Callisto suffered right now plainly proved that Harry's arsenal was diverse.

Wellesley wanted it. He wanted it all. These gifts were undeserving for a little brute such as Harry. Wherever he obtained these capabilities, they wouldn't stay hidden for long. Io needed as many advantages as it could get with the coming war against Callisto and Ganymede. History was in the making right now, and the lord was determined to carve his name in the history books.

'_Jupiter will unite by my hand. I can do nothing less.'_

* * *

The submersible traversed the shallow depths of Callisto's ocean in good order. The autopilot took care of most of the work while Harry had his fill of his thrall's athletic body. By the time the vessel neared the secretive underwater base, the wizard cleaned himself and his captive pilot up and let her do the talking.

"Unit 35-B, your arrival is unscheduled. Explain yourself immediately or you will be fired upon."

The Imperiused officer calmly activated her comm and spun a tale of bullshit. Apparently unscheduled visits weren't uncommon. Harry marveled at the imagination the young woman displayed. He had always assumed that the Imperius curse robbed victims of their initiative as well as their freedom of thought. Then he thought back of his time in Hogwarts many centuries ago.

How did it feel like to be under the curse?

At first, he didn't notice it. In fact, most of the other students hadn't shown any sign of awareness. That represented the curse's greatest strength. Those who were unaware of their affliction had no reason to purge themselves from the curse. The foul spell touched the very fabric of the mind, twisting it in unnatural ways that bent both feeling and judgment. The will of the caster superseded the will of the victim.

This, in essence, allowed those under the curse to continue to go along their lives without input from the caster. Harry was not so much a puppet master than a general. He wasn't required to pull each individual string. Only a few well-chosen commands would do, and the performance of his current victim had been enough to allow the submersible access within the compound.

As an impressive cliff structure began to recede and allow the submersible entry, Harry already planned his next move. The wizard knew nothing about the base and its defenses. Being a top-secret, black ops and highly sensitive location, he was sure that their security measures would surpass almost every other place he had infiltrated. The possibility that some of the psi-ops commandos were posted as guards also posed a very large hurdle.

"Unit 35-B, dock at the red pier and await for immediate boarding. Advanced security protocols are in effect due to the colony-wide state of emergency. Be advised that any unusual activity will constitute an overwhelming response."

Zhang had briefed him on all the possible security measures that were developed. Cameras could not only spot visible light but also heat in the form of infrared radiation or even the latent radioactive decay of a person's organic body. Sound and pressure sensors detected even the most minute displacement or vibration of air. Merely moving about in an empty room under a muffling created thousands of tiny eddies that might as well be a giant flashlight. Finally, sophisticated gravity sensors were able to track any changes in local gravity resulting from the movement of an ant.

And those were only the security measures that were publically known. Only the huge computational requirements necessary to operate the more sophisticated means limited their spread. Somehow, Harry didn't think a highly valuable base that trained psychics cared about a budget. Besides possible psychic sensors, Harry had no hope of circumventing all of the base's possible security measures.

Luckily, there was a rather crude but effective means of sidestepping all of these challenges.

He whipped up his Deathstick, and tapped the tip of the wand against his Resurrection Ring.

'_Sometimes being the Master of Death pays off.'_

Oh, if he could get rid of them, he would have done it long ago, as soon as Voldemort bit the dust. The legendary objects had been the source of an endless amount of grief to him. But a century of stasis amongst the stars had mellowed him out a little, just enough to realize that he couldn't afford to ignore any advantage. His distaste of using the Hallows' more.. exotic properties meant nothing against the vast forces arrayed against him. For better or worse, the boy had to embrace the source of his grief in order to gain more power.

A strange and ethereal energy washed over his body as he initiated the spell. A black flame sprung from Harry's boots, and slowly began to crawl up his legs and envelop his entire combat suit and body. The unnatural flames didn't consume his body, but rather.. put it somewhere else. More importantly, it also left the soul behind.

The disembodied wizard felt a momentary wave of disorientation as his body was purged from his spirit. Though he had done it once before so long ago, he hadn't realized how unclean the sensation made him feel. The very core of his soul cried out in the absence of the stabilizing factor of his body. Harry's shapeless mouth screamed silently as the gaping emptiness within his stomach threatened to swallow him whole. After all, souls didn't belong in the material dimension. Without an anchor, his weightless spirit threatened to be swept away from the base, the moon or even the galaxy.

No matter what he couldn't afford to be blown away by the winds of ethereal law. With the will borne out of a millennia of hatred, he focused solely on his sense of self and forcefully grounded himself in his location. _'I am Harry Antares, the only living wizard and destroyer of the Wizarding World. I am standing upon a submersible inside a secret base on the Jovian moon of Callisto. I am Harry Antares…'_

Eventually the claws receded, and allowed Harry a moment of freedom. He knew this was only a temporary reprieve, and that the next wave would be twice as hard.

He needed to be quick.

As the submersible finished docking, a security team immediately barged inside the vessel and took the Imperiused pilot into custody. The heavily armored men then swept the vehicle for any hidden threats.

Too bad their fancy top-of-the-line sensors couldn't detect the ghost that effortlessly passed through their bodies and out of the submersible. Harry faintly noticed the dock featured many other submersibles and larger vessels, but since he was pressed for time spent no more attention to his surroundings and instead headed towards what he thought led into the interior.

He passed straight through the security checkpoints with all of its fancy sensors without triggering anything. _'Well if that didn't trip anything then I guess I'm safe… for now.'_ Harry couldn't predict when the next wave came, so he had to hurry up and uncover as much secrets as possible before his presence was detected. When reality finally asserted its dominion over his existence, he probably wouldn't be able to extract any more intelligence from this facility.

His spirit hastily passed an open hallway when he suddenly caught an interesting conversation. Harry slowed himself and turned back to enter what seemed to be a mess hall for the guards. The large hall, draped in metallic blue paneling much like the rest of the base, was largely empty except for the remainder of a late-night shift enjoying their umpteenth cup of stimulants.

"I tell you Jorm, we shouldn't be down here guarding a bunch of eggheads fiddling around with genes and shit. There's a battle going on right now and we ain't doing squat to help."

"Are you nuts?" The second guard exclaimed as he munched on a pastry. "Loads of places got bombarded. We aren't worth shit against orbital attacks. This is probably the safest place on Callie at the moment."

The first speaker snorted. "Unlike you I got relatives in the Navy. That fucking sandstorm those Eyedolls blew in our way ain't helping."

"We're on communications lockdown, remember? There's no way you'll find out if anything happens to your precious relatives before the emergency passes."

Jorm's eyes then glinted with a certain knowing. "I've been standing guard at the fall tube last night. Those eggheads let slip that they have a way to penetrate the dust."

"No way."

"Oh yes way. It's all hush hush and wink wink for now but somehow they—"

"Jorm! Stevens!" A guard officer hollered as he entered the mess hall. "Holiday's over. Get back to your stations. We're going into yellow alert soon and that means pulling double shift."

The pair of guardsmen groaned, and Harry joined them. He wanted to hear what Jorm had to say about the new development. Was the Saharah ineffective now? Did the researchers on this base develop a means to track the _Immortal Marauder_? If there was a possibility that they invented a device to improve communications or sensors under adverse conditions then that made the wizard's mission all the more important.

Harry's ghostly form soundlessly followed the pair of guards that made their way back to their stations. Eventually they split up at an intersection, forcing the ghost to choose which way to go. He decided to follow Jorm, hoping the unsuspecting guard would head straight back to this 'fall tube' where those chatty researchers were on duty. After passing through numerous checkpoints, Jorm eventually made his way inside an observation chamber that had a noticeably different feel.

The walls were milky white instead of metallic blue. The lights shone in a warm shade of yellow instead of mercilessly white. The people working behind their terminals worked with intense purpose as they prepared for.. something. Two white-clad people stood in front of a transparent screen that looked out into a cylindrical chamber.

'_That explains the tube, but not the fall. Are they dropping something through this tube?'_ Harry thought as he crept closer to the two supervisors. The senior looking man held an air of confidence, as if nothing in the world could ruin his day. The other person looked more pensive. She was a matronly looking woman who maintained a prim appearance.

"Doctor Fenshaw, is it really necessary to conduct this test during a state of heightened emergency? We would do far more good by providing assistance to the colony."

"Nonsense, my dear." The grey-haired doctor replied with a foreign accent. "Our subject's birthday is tomorrow. We really don't have the luxury to let this opportunity past. Let the Navy handle matters above ground. With the aid our colleagues are providing them, they should make quick work of the Ioan incursion."

The pair fell silent for a while as they worked on their datapads. Every once in a while the female scientist snuck a glance at Fenshaw. The foreigner noticed the looks he received.

"You resent my presence."

"Excuse me?" The woman responded with befuddlement. "I feel no such thing."

"I care not what you feel or claim to feel. I have been transferred here to achieve results. With the imminent war over our heads we cannot afford to let a resource go to waste. I've heard you have been going soft around our subjects. Don't let your emotions get in the way of your job, Doctor McCreary."

"I'll have you know that our burnout rate has decreased by fifteen percent ever since my latest measures were put into place. We can't push our charges too hard."

Fenshaw looked icily at his colleague. "You women are all the same. You speak as if the subjects are children whom we are held responsible."

"If you have a problem with that, you can take it up to my superior."

The man didn't reply at that, and McCreary smirked at the lack of a response. "You've already tried. I'm sorry but you can't get rid of me that easily. You might have been sent here to achieve results, but I have been delivering that for over five years."

Their little quarrel then abruptly ended as a light turned green.

"The subject is in place." A technician called out.

"Good. Proceed with phase one. Let's start with the baseline." Fenshaw ordered, then fiddled with his datapad a little until the transparent screen changed its view to accommodate additional camera feeds from different angles. One of them showed the top of the tube, where one of the psi-ops kids – clad in a strange form-fitting suit – stood atop a ledge. The boy looked straight into one of the cameras and yelled a stream of obscenities which the feed thankfully didn't transmit. A different display showed the subject's biometric data, which included the basics such as heart rate and blood pressure but mainly focused on brain activity that went way beyond Harry's knowledge.

A moment of activity passed before the technicians finished their preparations. "Calibrations are finished."

"Excellent. Initiate phase one."

"Initiating the first phase."

What happened next proceeded to fascinate Harry. An invisible gravitic push flung the test subject from the ledge. With nothing supporting his feet, he began to fall straight down the tube. Dozens of cameras and millions of sensors tracked his desperate fall. His screaming went unheard, but when his body passed straight beside the viewscreen, Harry faintly felt the weight of the boy's psychic presence pass over his mind. It was a thoroughly unpleasant experience, though strangely the others were immune to the screams. Harry curiously approached the screen, only to hiss back in pain as he encountered the reason why the chamber was psychically isolated.

'_The walls are covered with nEMP fields. Of course they would have defenses in place to contain their precious test subjects.'_

The hidden base acquired a more sinister character now. Harry didn't feel as impervious as he did a minute before. _'What if the corridors are littered with nEMP emitters? I've walked right into a death trap.'_ He only hoped that if he was discovered the defenders won't have the foresight to activate them, but that seemed wishful thinking.

By then the test subject almost reached the bottom of the fall tube. Harry expected the poor sod to splatter all over the clean white tiles and paint it with a shade of red. He found it weird that these researchers found it interesting to observe a psychic's fall, but hey they might have been interested in studying the energy that was released whenever a magical died. Their deaths gave a much greater rush to Harry than flavorless muggles.

The wizard's guess was off the mark.

Meters away from his impending death, the boy shifted from sight. One moment he was there, the next there was nothing. Harry rubbed his intangible eye, but nothing changed. The bottom of the tube was still sparkly white, with not a drop of blood.

Then he registered movement on one of the other screens, and saw with amazement that the boy had somehow appeared back at the top of the fall tube. The frightened ten year old backed away from the ledge like his life depended on it, which was very true in this case. Harry switched his view from the top of the tube to the bottom and back again.

Then he got it. _'They're deliberately pushing the kid to apparate.'_

"What are the results?" Fenshaw called out to the technicians who were busy processing the huge amount of data that long fall produced.

"Preliminary readings indicate a measurement of factor 2.05."

"Two-point-oh-five, huh?" The supervisor grimaced at the figure. "A most disappointing result for a baseline. Proceed with phase two. Let's push it up to a new record, shall we?"

In phase two, the researchers mixed up the conditions. Instead of a plain white surface, the bottom of the tube retracted in order to reveal a nozzle that spewed out deathly flames. They allowed the test subject to observe the white-hot flames at the very bottom of the tube before pushing him off the ledge.

The boy fell straight down the tube and only apparated back when he was seconds away from being fried into a crisp.

The next phases of the experiment turned more gruesome. The tube slowly changed from an empty chamber into a deathtrap filled with booby-traps and other shenanigans. Buzz-saws, trip-wires, laser fences and other obstacles were put in the way of the falling boy. But each and every time the test subject miraculously apparated back up the ledge just moments before he reached a lethal section.

The technicians continued to rattle off incomprehensible figures in jargon so thick that he doubted even Professor Zhang could follow all of the dialogue. The only thing he understood was that this 'factor' was pretty important. The higher the number, the better.

Phase eleven finally put the boy out of his misery. He had been dodging obstacles, spreading and contracting his body and gone through all sorts of near misses all the while carrying an increasingly heavier backpack. According to the commentary, the kid carried thirty-five kilograms of ballast on his back as he fell yet again. The weight and shape of the backpack increased his stress and made is significantly more challenging for him to slip through the numerous traps that blocked his path.

Eventually, he just didn't have the will to resist anymore. Mere seconds before his death, the kid let go and let a flare of plasma dissolve his body into hot particles.

"Damnit! That was too early!"

"You've been pushing the subject too hard. If you paced the tests you would have been able to reach phase fifteen."

"It appears this test subject was only able to reach factor seventy-three. How disappointing."

"His death wasn't in vain." McCreary pushed back. "The addition of the backpack resulted in interesting new readings. We have taken one step closer to our goal."

"We aren't moving fast enough. Factor seventy-three is pathetic. How are we ever going to lift humanity up when we can only travel seventy-three times the speed of light?"

"Don't come to conclusions so swiftly yet, Fenshaw. We have a longer fall tube under construction at a different base. Perhaps we have not seen the full potential of our test subjects' capabilities."

As the researchers wound down their experiment, Harry crept away, feeling profoundly disturbed. _'These muggles know about apparition, and are researching it as a means to travel amongst the stars.'_

The thought that a mundane Wizarding phenomenon such as apparition was the focus of intense experimentation made him uneasy. The poor ten-year old that had his body burned to ashes probably followed a long line of other test subjects. The fall tube certainly seemed too elaborate to be wasted on one single test. How many others have been pushed to their deaths? Hundreds? Thousands? Perhaps even more?

This snapshot had given Harry greater insight into the purpose of this facility. As Harry wandered from corridor to corridor, snooping around for any other clues, it appeared that no one knowledgeable about Wizarding Tradition was in charge. This was a purely muggle operation. The way they plucked kids from the street, pumped them full of drugs and other enhancements and then encased them in battle armor appeared brutally inefficient from his perspective as a wizard. The clueless scientists thought their test subjects were only able to express their reality-defying powers while they were magically immature. As soon as they reached the age of eleven, their usefulness abruptly ended.

Hence the fall tube. If it was possible to milk out one final bit of usefulness out of these kids, they exploited it as much as they could. This operation was truly barbaric.

Not that Harry particularly cared. He knew now that these muggles were making some inroads into the mechanics of apparition, and that meant that they were a threat. This entire base needed to be eliminated off the face of the moon. He also needed to retrieve any useful research data. If there was one person that was entitled to enjoy the benefits of magic, it was him and only him. No one else had the right to scavenge for powers he worked hard to monopolize.

His ghostly form doubled back towards what he thought was the lab area. A few technicians were at work interpreting the latest experimental data, including Doctor Fenshaw. He seemed to be the man in charge of the research division so he was the most promising person to Imperius next. Although he seemed to possess a forceful personality, Harry was confident that he could overpower a muggle. Not every person's mind was as strong as Dictat Leopold. Hopefully.

With a conscious push he called back his physical form. The body that he had spent so much effort in displacing now eagerly returned to the material realm. Reality eagerly helped along, wanting to correct the aberration in its immutable laws. With a soft wash of light, Harry's soul gained substance, appearing first as a sticky blob of clay, which then hardened into a solid shape of a human being. In a few seconds the transition ended. Harry gained his body intact.

Unfortunately, his sudden appearance triggered some sort of alarm inside the lab. Strange noises and red lights flashed, and the occupants of the room immediately abandoned their work and dove behind cover.

'_FUCK! Can't anything I do go right for once?!'_

Fenshaw happened to look straight at a disembodied foot a distance away from him. Harry looked down and realized what the doctor had noticed. _'Damnit, my fucking foot is sticking out of my cloak!'_

The head researcher took only half a second to process the sight. Then he reached for a tiny pulse pistol from one of his pockets and fired straight towards the intruder.

Harry ditched his invisibility cloak, knowing the time for stealth was over. He let the pitiful pulse blasts wash against his wards and blasted the poor doctor apart. The wizard barely wasted any more time on the exploding corpse and focused on eliminating the remaining occupants. Soon the lab was clear of intruders. _'Though not for long now that the alarm has been sounded.'_

He only had a limited amount of time to grab what he could before moving on. He approached Fenshaw's terminal and retrieved a device from one of his bottomless pocket. It was a highly advanced hacking module which he stuck into one of the researcher's terminal. The device was expensive, but was able to crack some forms of military-grade encryption. The software of the module was a bit outdated, since the lack of solarnet access within the cloud prevented him from updating its hacking profile.

The device beeped green after half a minute of shuffling. Harry pulled out the device and let his cybernetic eye interpret the digital output flashing rapidly from its screen.

'_Hmmm.. it was only able to retrieve a limited amount of locally stored data. Looks like most of the sensitive stuff is stored on a keyed crystal data core in the middle of the base.'_

This presented a bit of a snag to Harry. Keyed crystals such as Ship Crystals were highly advanced developments that only unlocked its secrets to the holder of the key, usually a deceptively simple-looking ring. Even if Harry made off with the crystal, he doubted his men could make head or tails out of the impenetrable data. He needed to locate and steal the control ring as well. _'Now who would be wearing the ring? Fenshaw doesn't have it. McCreary might have it but I don't remember. Too bad I couldn't record what I saw while I was disembodied.'_

By now, the first guards had arrived, and Harry abandoned his doubts. _'First I'll get the crystal. Then I'll worry about what happens next.'_ The guards first let loose a string of grenades. Not wanting to risk being blasted by nEMP, Harry expended a wide shockwave that bounced the explosives right back into the corridor they originated from, blasting the guards with a mixture of plasma and sonic pressure. It was safe to say that none survived, even with their heavy armor.

This granted Harry a small reprieve, but he doubted he could enjoy it for long. The battle wizard moved and exited the lab. He turned towards the direction his explorations indicated his objective lay, blasting through guards all the way along. Squads of patrollers and checkpoints of reinforced positions all perished from the precision strikes the boy lashed out. Most return fire bounced off his enhanced armor, and it was only when the guards brought out their Class III heavy armaments that the intruder felt any sweat.

There! The entrance into the data chamber was just ahead. He retrieved an enhanced grenade and tossed it in the midst of a strongpoint, shredding all of the desperate guards who took up station there. Harry didn't stick around to see the results as he apparated right in front of the door.

Harry didn't bother to fiddle with the keypad and wrenched it apart with a powerful kinetic blast. He stepped inside and found the compartment curiously empty.

Then he heard footsteps. A woman appeared from the rear of the protective shell that enveloped the data crystal. Harry recognized McCreary, and found it suspicious that she didn't cower in fright.

"Well done, my dear, well done. The readings that we have taken from you have been most illuminating."

Something was definitely off. "You've been stringing me along."

"Of course. You didn't think we'd be _that_ stupid to allow a psionic like you have free reign in our base, did you?" McCreary smirked and crossed her arms in an demeaning posture. "I don't know how you appeared inside our base, but you have played right in our hands from the moment you triggered the alarms. I must thank you for getting rid of my annoying colleague."

A frustrated growl escaped Harry's mouth as he considered his surroundings. What hazards lay in wait? How confident was that bitch in her defenses? He decided to probe her and sent a low-powered stunner at the doctor.

It passed right through her body as if she was a ghost herself. A chill passed through his spine as he realized his predicament. He flipped his cybernetic eye from battle mode into observation mode and saw McCreary's shape as she truly appeared.

She was a hologram. The entire fucking room was a hologram. He had been led right into a trap. _'I should have trained more extensively with my new eye.'_ McCreary clapped her hands, and his surroundings changed into a plain white cell. A panel on the roof retracted and a very imposing cannon emerged from the opening. It was a wide-band nEMP emitter.

"I can't let you go. An adolescent psionic such as you is of immense value to us. My apologies for any discomfort you will experience in the next few seconds."

McCreary's holographic form disappeared, and the emitter charged up. Harry let out a curse as he tried to apparate out of the cell, but failed to get anywhere due to the thick dampeners lining the walls. He cursed again as he feared what a powerful blast of nEMP might do to his equipment, in particular his portkeys. Without them, he would have no way out of the colony. _'I don't have any other choice.'_ The wizard turned his attention back to the device and retrieved something out of his pocket and threw the object towards the charging weapon.

By then the emitter fired.

* * *

**End Notes:** Removed.


	50. II: Return from the Abyss

November 22, 2012  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: It took a bit longer to get this chapter out because I had to reread this entire fic to get up to speed with the crazy stuff I thought up. Along the way I encountered some pretty retarded spelling and grammar errors, and that forced me to slow down and correct all the obvious errors. I did this all the way up to chapter 47 when I finally got bored with the tedious work. I'm not too confident that I've rooted out all of the errors, though, so the tag 'Not Proofread' still remains.

Also, as usual, all the new chapters I post will not be proofread either, because I'm super lazy. I'm sure I'll be shaking my head a half year later for leaving really stupid mistakes behind in this version.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Return from the Abyss_

* * *

Commander Claris snarled as the _Immortal Marauder_ shook under the impact of a volley of railgun slugs. Her ship's varilaser broadsides answered the attack with a broadside of her own, pounding the offending destroyer into a mangled wreck with her varilaser pulses. Their raid on Callisto progressed mostly on plan so far, but the more they lingered the higher the pressure. The Callistoans were getting smarter, and tightened their patrols. While the _Marauder_'s magically enhanced firepower and armor held up well, they were in threat of being overwhelmed by sheer numbers. What was taking Captain Harry so long?

'_We're starting to buck under the pressure.. we've been fighting for hours… the crew can't take much more.'_

"Jennings, change heading to escape route 3. Let's start to pull out."

"Aye aye, ma'm." The pilot answered and obediently changed the _Marauder_, or Maddie as the crew started to call it, to a course that would lead her away from Callisto and her formidable defenses.

"What about Harry, ma'm?" Lieutenant Kenzie asked with her young voice. "He's ordered us to remain in the vicinity of the moon."

"We can't stay here." Claris gritted out. "Even with the Saharah dust storm the Ioans provided us, it's already starting to pass over. I want to us to be a healthy distance away from Callisto's perimeter before they gain the ability to detect us again."

The _Marauder_ started to maneuver in a different direction unseen by most of the defenders. The Callistoans had expected the attack to come, but as far as anyone knew, their sensors couldn't penetrate the hot dust and pin the Maddie down. She had used the concealment to her advantage and wrought a terrible bombing run on space stations and lunar facilities. While the Maddie could certainly wreck more infrastructure, most of her explosive ordnance ran dangerously low.

"Ma'm! Priority alert! I'm detecting a _huge_ energy emission to our starboard side!"

Claris immediately brought up the relevant information at her personal screen and saw that Kenzie's report was not a fluke. Something big was heading their way. It was slow, but the heat readings were still humongous. What could burn so much energy yet traverse so ploddingly…?

Her blood ran cold. "It's a battleship!"

Everyone froze for a moment. A battleship? Here? This far away from Callisto's orbit? Battleships were terrible ships. Unlike the jump from destroyer to cruiser, a battleship was not just a suped-up cruiser. These massive ships were almost exclusively built with high-grade extra-solar materials. Their weapons, armor and other systems were a breed apart. These ships were in fact so strong and destructive, that policy makers always left them to defend the home turf, keeping them around only as a strategic reserve and deterrent.

Captain Harry, Claris, and everyone else knew there was a risk of encountering one of these monsters. Yet they all expected the Saharah to make an encounter impossible. The huge capitals ships moved too slow to detect an enemy ship under these conditions. But the readers were true. Somehow, Callisto managed to direct a battleship right at her current location.

The de-facto ship captain worked hard, plotting out the courses of the incoming emission and compared it to the Maddie's. She grew reassured, if just a little. From their relative velocities and angles of approach, she could tell that the _Marauder_ was outrunning the incoming threat. The only caveat was that their courses converged down to a distance where the battleship would be in visual range for half a minute to a minute, allowing it to shell the _Marauder_ for a limited time.

"Navigator Nicholas, try to adjust our course in order to limit our exposure to the incoming bogey."

The former pirate was already hard at work behind his console. "I'm already working on it, but the engines are already boosting as hard as they can. We can't avoid the conflict."

'_Shit._' Claris cursed mentally. "Blake, prepare our defenses against large-caliber shelling. Expect Class X armament to bear on us."

"Our armor isn't rated against attacks of that magnitude, but.. the captain's enhancements might allow us to endure the first volley." The defense officer replied tersely. The _Marauder_'s double-layered EMP-hardened plating had received Harry's full attention. His magical charms and wards strengthened the hull to a hitherto-unknown degree against all manner of physical attacks, while the EMP hardening gave the Maddie some protection against electrical attacks that had the power to strip magic of its potency. Yet for all the work that was put into the armor, Class X attacks were a breed apart from Class IX, which the _Immortal Marauder _was normally rated against.

'_Looks like we're going to put her name to the test._'

The clock was ticking as everyone braced themselves against the coming onslaught heading inexorably in their direction. Sometimes Claris wished her ship was as nimble as a fighter, but the millions of tons that composed the mighty cruiser made turning around a very sluggish maneuver. The laws of physics dominated in space, and every single human was completely at their mercy. _'Except for Captain Harry, but he's not here.'_

Even if Harry was present on the bridge, Claris doubted he could stop a battleship in its tracks. She had been with Harry since the beginning and learned quite a bit about his capabilities. While he was certainly murder on legs with that ridiculous wooden stick of his, even he couldn't match the power of warship-grade weaponry. Ship-to-ship combat was exclusively the preserve of warships like the old _Eviscerator_ or the new and untested _Immortal Marauder_. No wand-waving magician could ever destroy such a vessel, except from the inside but only through boarding actions.

"Our sensors are resolving.. receiving visuals now!"

"Put it on the main screen."

The cloud of ever-present brown dust roiled around, slowly parting way for a massive cylindrical object pushing towards them. They still couldn't see the ship directly, but the range was lowered to the point where both ships were able to get a solid lock on each other.

"Shall we fire a supertorpedo at them?" Weapons officer Stacy asked with a cracked voice. Even she did not have that much confidence in the magical cluster weapon. In order to hurt a battleship, they needed penetration. The supertorpedoes only provided clustered explosions, each of which woefully insufficient in cracking battleship-grade armor.

"No." Claris answered definitively. "The torpedo launcher is mounted in our aft, and I don't want to present our engines to the enemy vessel. I don't want to attack them with our broadsides either. Instead present our armored roof in the bogey's directions. Direct all power from our primary weapons to our engines and electric screens. Keep the point-defense turrets online in case we encounter missiles. Inform every member of our crew to cocoon themselves if they are not needed and standby all damage control teams for imminent hazards."

The seconds passed slowly, anticipating a volley at any second.

"We've passed into effective combat range! Estimate thirty-eight seconds until we-"

Kenzie's report was cut-off mid-sentence when the cocoons drew down on all of the bridge crew. Their egg-shaped chairs enveloped their precious charges and padded the interior with state-of-the-art cushioning and shock-absorbing material just in time for a massive impact.

_BOOM!_

The entire ship rumbled down to her spine as the battleship's two railguns pounded a pair of heavy slugs against the presented roof of the _Marauder_. The solid projectiles met the protective wards head-on and plowed through the overextended screen with unrelenting force. Yet the wards served their purpose, slowing the slugs down and letting other layers of protection bleed off more and more energy.

In the end, the roof hadn't been penetrated, but the entire structure had buckled inward, crunching the roof like a dented can of beverage. More poignantly, the sheer transfer of force had caused the cruiser to be shoved away in a light spin.

On the bridge, the cocoons retracted, allowing the shaken and jarred technicians to regain control.

"Status report!" Claris bellowed, even as she checked the readings herself to see what damage the _Marauder_ sustained. "And spin the ship around in order to present our belly to the battleship."

"Upper deck integrity is reduced by 55 percent! Eighteen compartments near the impact sites are suffering from decompression. Powergrid efficiency is reduced to 92 percent. Three point-defense turrets are knocked off-line. Casualty reports are incoming but it's estimated that they are light."

"Assessment?"

"It could have gotten worse. So far we've only been hit by a volley of their secondary armament. We can take another hit to our belly armor but that's it. If they spin around to present their broadsides at us, it's over."

That presented the worst-case scenario. It was obvious now that the battleship they were facing carried the majority of its armaments on its sides. Somehow, Claris didn't think the ship would turn around. The battleship was too sluggish to do so and fire off a salvo in time.

It did have enough time to let out another railgun salvo.

"Detecting another spike!"

This time, even as their seats formed into another protective cocoon, everyone on the ship _felt_ the punishing blow. Fixtures cracked and dropped from the ceiling as a horrible crunch sounded throughout the ship. Crewmen in the lower decks screamed as the merciless projectiles punched through the thinner belly armor and punched holes into dozens of compartments. Some of the men and women serving there were crushed by folding bulkheads. Others were sucked out into space, some still cowering in their cocoons and blind to the fact that they were flying out to their doom.

As the bridge crew turned back to their work, they reported the grim results to a desultory commander.

"Ma'm, our belly's armor integrity is reduced to just 34%! Our armor is punctured in two places and casualties are by the dozen. We lost two fuel tanks and environmentals is hard hit. Four more point-defense turrets are knocked off-line, and.. the rear torpedo mount is rendered inoperable."

Claris cursed out loud. She just lost one of her most destructive armaments. "How soon before it can get back online?"

"D-Days, ma'm. An important section was torn clean-off into space."

"We just left effective sensor range, ma'm!" Kenzie informed the commander over the din. "The battleship shouldn't be able to fire on us anymore."

That was one small relief. Having endured two salvos by the brink of her teeth, the _Immortal Marauder_ was still alive and kicking, if a bit dented and bruised. While perhaps up to fifty lives were lost in that single instant, the ship still retained more than 90 percent of her compliment, and more importantly the engines were still burning at full strength. The loss of the fuel tanks was regrettable, but she still held enough reserves to make it back home to Io.

"We dodged a bullet there. Let's hope Captain Harry makes it out as well."

That didn't mean the Maddie was out of the fire yet. "Detecting three more heat signatures! They… they're the battleship's escorts!"

"Class?"

"Two frigates and one destroyer."

Ordinarily the _Immortal Marauder_ could have made short work of the group. But with cracked armor and other battle damage, the Callistoans might get lucky and slow them down even further. Claris sighed, then refocused her efforts. "Ready our broadsides. Target the destroyer first!"

* * *

Harry was in a shithole. He had schemed an attack on Callisto ever since those insane brats called psi-ops invaded his territory and took his precious concubine. Most of the material destruction being wrought all around them was a just penance for his losses. Yet for all his plans, all his predictions, he had missed one important detail.

Magic might not be the best solution in a facility meant to contain psi-ops commandos. Having been foolishly led into an nEMP-lined chamber through smoke and mirrors, he couldn't apparate or portkey himself out. Worse, the nEMP turret charging up to fire at him couldn't be avoided.

Too bad the designers of this prison chamber forgot one, important fact. Harry rapidly searched his pocket and threw the desired object straight at the turret.

The anti-materiel grenade exploded violently, scorching the turret and the surrounding walls with heated plasma. The weapon emplacement was no match against the hot fury, melting and disintegrating under the oppressive energy.

'_Looks like this prison isn't designed to repel muggle armaments.'_ Harry thought as he released his shield charm, letting excess plasma scour the floor. It was unfortunate that the wizard only brought the grenade and a few other muggle knick-knacks along as an afterthought. Besides, destroying the turret was one step. He still had to escape the chamber.

Experimentally, Harry retrieved his revolver and aimed it at the wall. He fired off a blood-fueled _Reductor_ curse, only to see the spell break apart into useless light and noise just millimeters away from impact. _'Thought so. That nEMP shielding sure is annoying.'_

A shaky hologram reappeared in the chamber. The comely figure of Dr. McCreary smirked at her captive. "I see you have quite a few tricks in your bag, intruder. I can see now that it is far too dangerous to keep you alive. Alas, it seems I shall be limiting my study of you through dissection."

As if on cue, a noxious green gas suddenly fizzled in the room, choking Harry's breath.

"Do be a good dear and die."

The hologram shuttered out, leaving Harry wallowing in fumes of corrosive gas. Even if his combat armor and wards afforded him some measure of protection, his revolver and wand might not fare so well. Pressed for time, Harry abandoned any attempt at coming up with an elegant solution and resorted to brute force. He redoubled his efforts and bombarded the walls with spells upon spells with both his revolver and his wand.

'_C'mon.. break already..'_

He focused his fire on the floor directly below the ruined turret. Most of the plasma had fallen there, and ate through significant chunks of the eerie blank tiling. Slowly, but surely, Harry widened the cracks and chipped away more material. Eventually, he broke through the dense layer and exposed the delicate wiring that emanated the nEMP emitters. He thrust his boot into them, cracking them with pure, physical force. His action opened a gap in the defenses, one he eagerly exploited by barreling through the floor with a flurry of spells, widening the crack and letting the corrosive gas escape.

When the opening was wide enough, Harry jumped downwards and found he ended up in some kind of workroom where uniformed technicians were working behind their computers just a minute earlier. Now, they were choking and breaking apart as the gas gripped their feeble bodies. The boy paid no heed to the schmucks. His only priority was escape.

It wouldn't be that easy. Just as he was about to catch his breath, the door leading to the corridor crashed inward. A pair of hulking armored guards stepped inside, their weight thrumming loudly. They pointed their weighty forearms at Harry, ready to fire whatever contraption was built into them and subdue the intruder.

'_Fuck, I'm not that stupid.'_ Harry mentally growled, and didn't bother with his revolver or conventional spells. Instead he pointed his wand towards the furniture, and flicked his entire wand arm. This caused the chairs and tables jump in the air and crash against the armored figures, staggering them but not taking them out. The wizard ignored the stunned guards and sprinted past them into the corridor and chose a random direction. He had no idea where to run, and since the base was underwater he could not get out that easy. _'I doubt I'll be able to escape through submersible. They must have missile defenses and shit. I only need to get out of this nEMP envelope that surrounds the base for me to portkey back to my ship.'_

That was easier said than done. All the doors looked the same, and every third crossing he encountered another troupe of guards who stubbornly shrugged off his magic. _'Fucking Malcours. Why can't they leave magic well enough alone?'_

The tech displayed by the staff members of the facility was far too dangerous to leave alone. He had to wipe it off the face of Callisto. Even if the data and research had been disseminated elsewhere, destroying this base might delay the muggles from developing more effective countermeasures.

* * *

After crashing a vending machine on top of another guard, he blasted open the locked door in front of him and entered what looked to be.. a cell complex. Harry stopped and paused. The cells were completely transparent. Rows upon rows of cubicles stretched his eye, and he counted more than a hundred individual cells.

A hundred pair of eyes looked back at him. Harry expected to be bombarded by Legilimancy probes but felt nothing. _'Looks like these cells block them out.'_ The children looked at him with a mixture of rage, curiosity, despair and resignation. For a moment, his heart lurched and he wanted to do nothing more than free these innocent kids. Most of them, especially those approaching 11, looked horrendous. Their skins were grafted with cybernetic materials. Some had their limbs chopped off and replaced with artificial copies. Others barely had the strength to stand, having been starved and deprived for some unknown reason. The sheer amount of suffering in this single chamber was immense, and Harry had to close his eyes and calm himself. As much as he wanted to free these suffering kids.. they were too far gone. Any one of them might go berserk and pile up on him. He already had his hands full with the guards.

He came here to find out what these researchers were up to. Rescuing these budding psi-ops commandos was not on his to-do list. Besides, his portkey couldn't possibly carry each of them away. _'Best to end their lives now. I don't envy those who died at the fall tube.'_

Harry strode to the middle of the chamber and went to work before a new batch of guards arrived. He opened his pack and started to pull out his prepared bomb. It was a smaller and more compact version of his superbomb. _'I have to figure out a better name for this cluster shit.'_ He absently noted as he configured the settings for the bomb. _'Fifteen minutes is probably enough.'_ After activating the timer, he cast a bunch of spells that hid the explosive and protected it from damage.

'_Now all I gotta do is get away before it blows this place to bits.'_

The onlookers weren't clueless. Those old enough to have served as psi-ops immediately recognized the danger and started going absolutely berserk. They screamed, roared and pounded the walls of their nEMP-lined cells. A dozen or so were practically frothing at the mouth at their inability to get at Harry, and started to tear their own eyes out or ram their fists through their mouth for some insane reason. The fleeing wizard was thankful that he could hear none of their nonsense through the soundproof cells. It might have made him feel guilty.

As Harry ran back towards he came, he noticed that the children he passed were getting younger and younger. Those at the center of the prison chamber were the oldest of the lot, the nine or ten-year olds who possessed the most augmentations and acted the most batshit crazy. Away from the center, the kids started to look more like victims, most of who gazed upon Harry with empty eyes. Those who were put at the very edge of the chamber were the youngest of them all. The three and four-year olds barely had any concept of what was happening. Their confused and sad expressions tore at Harry's conscience, and only the fact that he had little of it allowed him to brush off their pleading gazes.

Yet as he reached exit, his legs started to lock up, and he stumbled a little. He turned his armored form towards the two little children who were placed on opposite sides to him. Unlike the vast majority of their peers, these two appeared to have no augmentations at all. The boy and girl both looked completely human, and by the looks of it they were fresh recruits from the way they bawled at him and pleaded for their mommies.

He should leave. Harry knew he should, but he couldn't. Surely he could take away one of them.. or perhaps both. _'It will be awkward enough to carry both of them. If I want to stay mobile, I can only take one with me.'_

This was stupid. He was already wasting precious seconds deciding whether to free potential psi-ops brats who might otherwise do their best to kill him. Still.. these toddlers barely looked older than three. They couldn't kill him, let alone lift a knife.

That left him to decide who to take. To be honest, he already made his decision even though he spent a few seconds looking back and forth. After easing his much-abused conscience by appearing to stay objective, he turned away from the boy and made for the girl. It was a sexist, arbitrary decision to go for her, but Harry couldn't help it. He had a thing for the fairer sex.

As he approached the glass, the girl looked up at him hopefully. The kid wore nothing but a monotonous dress. Her dark scruffy hair looked unwashed for at least a week and her big blue eyes stared up at him with sadness and longing. Meekly, as if afraid of getting hit, she slowly lifted her pudgy arms, seeking safety in his arms.

That absolutely melted his sight. He stepped forward and punched the transparent plating, testing its strength. Not a single crack appeared. _'This is going to be tough.'_

He had to shatter the wall without damaging the prisoner within. As if knowing what was about to happen, the girl scampered back and cowered in the far corner. With a little more room to work with, the wizard retrieved his dagger and then bludgeoned it against the wall with magical force. While he was already draining his halved reserves to the stretching point, he still wanted his little souvenir.

The synthetic wall shattered, letting a million pieces of what appeared to be crystal fall to the ground. Without wasting a single beat, Harry holstered his dagger and summoned the frightened girl on his shoulder. The sudden motion caused her to cry, making the wizard regret the action. With a silent curse he turned around and shifted the little weight over his armored form so he had a firm grip on her tiny body.

The boy on the opposite side of the wall watched with haunted eyes as his only potential savior left the cell chamber.

Harry wasn't completely without a heart, yet time was running out. At least he'd be giving all those kids a quick death.

On he went, running towards what he thought was the submersible bay. He didn't bother to dispatch the guards anymore. With the girl in his arm he couldn't risk it, so instead he conserved his energy and snuck past the patrols using a combination of disillusionment and glamours. The base personnel were scouring all corners of the facility, exhorted by Doctor McCreary's insistence on capturing the elusive psionic. Most of the time they were running like headless chicken.

Only when he arrived at the submersible bay did he hit a snag.

There were no subs. All of them have left.

"FUCK!"

The bay was sealed shut, so there was no way to dive in the water and swim away. Not that he wanted to, knowing the pressure might crack his armor at this depth. He walked around the empty room and tried to find some kind of escape, knowing he had only a few minutes left to get away.

A little hand smacked his face plate. When Harry turned his attention to his charge, she pointed towards the side at a locked door.

"What is it?"

She didn't speak, but pointed insistently.

"Is there something behind that door? A way to get out?"

The girl nodded vigorously, to Harry's skepticism. _'How can she know? Did she read someone's mind? Is she reading my mind at this very moment?'_

Despite Harry's questions, the girl remained aloof, and Harry gave up his inquiry to focus on the bigger issue. It was obvious that the submersible bay held nothing of value, so it didn't hurt to look elsewhere. After blasting open the locked door, he followed a path of largely abandoned corridors, obediently turning wherever the girl pointed. He found it increasingly disconcerting that the toddler knew when to make the right turn.

With only a minute-and-a-half left until the bomb went off, they arrived at their destination. A dwindling crowd of researchers were calmly standing in line to board a row of.. capsules. Harry just spotted someone enter one of the cylinders, which automatically closed and cocooned the occupant. Seconds later, the capsule shot upwards through a tube and into the deep water. _'The techies are evacuating.'_

That wouldn't do. Harry lifted his revolver and spat out a spray of indiscriminate _Fiendfyre_ at the unsuspecting crowd. Scores died as the unnaturally hot flames scorched their bodies into ash. The entire chamber erupted in chaos as those who stood around the edges managed to escape the worst of it and rapidly sought escape.

After he killed or chased away all of the rabble, he went for the nearest functioning capsule. Just as he was about to enter however, the capsule's entrance locked up.

"Shit!" The frustrated boy cursed, and slammed his fist against the keypad, causing it to beep nonsensical tones.

A familiar hologram reappeared. "Ah there you are. You didn't think it would be that easy to get away from me, did you?"

"Bitch."

"Now that is uncalled for." Dr. McCreary answered. "Be a good little psionic and wait for my heavy squad to arrive. The guards you have encountered so far are nothing compared to my finest. They.. delight in subduing errant little transhumans like you."

As McCreary taunted Harry, he tried desperately to use his armor's hacking module to unlock the capsule. "The hell I'll stay. I've seen the freakshow that happens here. This place deserves to be nuked to hell."

She frowned, just a little. "My dear, you could use some social skills." Her dissatisfaction quickly faded. "You are quite wrong as well. While I admit our children suffer needlessly in our care, it is for the betterment of our-, no _my_ race. Humanity is changing, child. Despite all our efforts in keeping our genetics constant and free from defects, more psionics are discovered each year. My race must understand yours in order to.. balance the transition. I have done my best to look after the welfare of our charges. If you cease your futile resistance, I will give you my personal guarantee that you will be treated well."

"That's bullshit. You might act like you care, but that's not what I've seen in that transparent cage where you keep all your prisoners."

"Interesting. You sound as if you are unfamiliar with the psi-ops project." McCreary pursed her lips and looked at Harry with a thoughtful expression. "You must have an interesting history. I haven't encountered any psionic like you before. Such power, such magnificence. And your age.. you look almost twenty!"

'_Give or take 900 years.'_ Harry mentally muttered and waited helplessly as his hacking module took its sweet time in decoding the lengthy sequence. He had less than a minute left until the bomb went off and his device was anything but quick. _'Fucking technology. I can't even breach the doors without compromising the capsule either.'_

"Whoever you are, whatever you are, you will reveal all your secrets to me, to us. I shall transcend the field of transhumanism to a new level with your corpse!"

Harry wanted to snark back a nasty reply, but he was suddenly interrupted by his passenger yet again. She tried to reach for the keypad with her grubby fingers. This time Harry waited much shorter before reacting, and lifted the girl close enough to press the buttons.

'_Does she really know the code?'_

Sure enough, those cute little fingers pressed with a will, tapping a slow and lengthy sequence of numbers. Harry doubted the kid was even old enough to read, yet she diligently tapped with precision. Sure enough, at the last press of the button, the capsule unlocked. The wizard spent barely a second to dive inwards and press the launch button.

"What?! But how?!" McCreary's hologram screeched as she watched with amazement as her greatest prize escaped from her grasp. She whirled around and addressed someone off-screen. "You there! Lockdown the escape capsules, quickly!"

"I can't, ma'm! All escape methods are isolated to local control for security reasons. Once someone enters an override code, we can't supersede it from the control center."

"You incompetent little…!"

The voices faded off as the capsule abruptly launched upwards, leaving the underwater base and its horrors behind. While the capsule estimated that it took about thirteen minutes to propel itself to the surface of the terraformed moon, Harry had no patience to stay. A tiny weight lifted from his mind, indicating that he had left the nEMP barrier that prevented him from portkeying out. With an exhausted sigh he holstered his revolver and held the half-oblivious girl he rescued close to his chest.

"Say goodbye to Callisto and hold on tight, baby, because this won't be a pleasant trip."

Just as the psi-ops facility started to explode in a series of ever-growing explosions, Harry activated his hidden portkey and escaped the blast wave that threatened to overtake his escape capsule—

—And land him roughly at the cargo bay of the _Immortal Marauder_, just as the ship shook under a barrage of missiles. Alarms were blaring like mad and crewmen were darting left and right putting out fires and securing loose equipment.

The toddler Harry carried started to cry from the wrenching portkey travel and the large amount of noise that came from every direction. For one impulsive moment, Harry wanted to slap the kid's face in order to shut her screeching mouth shut, but he relented a little. _'It's not her fault.'_

The damage control teams hardly noticed the return of their captain as he exited the cargo bay and took the lift to the upper deck towards the bridge. Harry for his part didn't waste to stop and have a chat. From all the shaking and rolling, it was obvious that the Callistoans were pressing the _Marauder_ hard.

Well, let them throw their might against his mighty cruiser. When the entire solar system saw how much damage he wrought onto Callisto and how little they were able to reciprocate, it would make his successful escape all the more sweeter.

"Sweet." The little girl giggled, and hugged her body tight against his cold, unfeeling battle armor.

* * *

**End Notes:** It took a bit longer for this chapter to get out but it shouldn't take that long for me to write the next one, though I am quite busy lately. I'm also picking up _The Star Alliance_ again now that I've succeeded in getting another proofreader for that fic.


	51. II: The Butcher's Bill

November 29, 2012  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: I'm taking my sweet time writing updates because I'm not in the mood for another writing marathon.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Butcher's Bill_

* * *

Harry stormed into the bridge as his ship continued to rumble from enemy weapon impacts.

"Captain! You've returned!" Claris stammered as she took an eye off the busy plot she was studying. Then she noticed the dark-haired girl curled up against his chest. "Who.. who's that?"

"Nothing important. Tell me what's going on first."

Claris grimaced. "It's bad, sir." She summoned up a schematic that showed each of the _Immortal Marauder_'s decks. A lot of compartments were red or yellow. "We were doing fine for quite a good while until a battleship jumped us out of the blue. While we managed to escape its devastating weapons, we still endured two volleys of Class X railgun fire, cracking the roof and belly armor of our ship. The resulting damage slowed us down and weakened us against missiles. The destroyer flotilla that's pursuing us is keeping to the edge and has been bombarding us with missile fire. Each subsequent salvo always manages to damage something between the cracks. We don't have enough point-defense capability to shoot down all of the missiles."

"Then why aren't we turning around and shoot down those destroyers?"

"They're too nimble, even with our magical upgrades. And attacking them is exactly what they want. The sluggish battleship we tangled earlier is still chasing after us. If we do anything to slow our retreat, it might catch up again, and I'm certain we can't survive its railguns a second time."

Knowing how impressively powerful battleships in this day and age were built, Harry accepted the assessment. As much as he liked to fancy the _Marauder_ as a ship apart, a sheep was still a sheep in the eyes of the wolf. "How are we coping so far? Do you think we can slip away successfully?"

This time Claris took her time. The question clearly troubled her, and the fact that she needed time to formulate her answer indicated that the issue was quite complex. "No sir. Our speed isn't enough to outrun the enemy destroyers, and each time they damage something we risk losing speed. We're on the losing side of a chasing action."

The Callistoan ships were like a pack of dogs who were baying the _Immortal Marauder_ like it was a wounded fox. Each subsequent bite they inflicted on the Maddie wounded the vessel even further. There was no way to reverse this pattern unless the fox either managed to run faster or lose the scent."

"We have to break the pursuit." Harry hammered. "There has to be _something_ we can do to outrun these bastards. How are they tracking us anyhow?"

"Heat. Infrared radiation. While the Saharah conceals us from most sensors at long range, at these distances the immense heat of our engines is acting like a beacon."

"That's our problem there. If we just shut down our engine and coast along in the cold, they'll be bound to lose us, right?"

"It's not that simple. Our ballistic trajectory and reduced speed will make it child's play for them to catch up." Claris grimaced, and inputted a quick simulation that showed the results of such an endeavor. The digital representation of the _Marauder_ cut her main thrusters, reducing her heat drastically. However, the destroyers pursuing the Maddie continued to burn at full speed, eventually coming so close to their target that even with every engine cold, they were able to observe the lingering traces of thermal energy.

"Okay, so coasting straight ahead is out of the picture." The young captain puzzled over the problem, using his experiences in his previous battles in space to paint a picture. "We need to change direction before going cold, but if the enemy sees us making our turn, they will automatically adjust."

"So we need to mask our course adjustment. How can we do that…"

While Claris and Harry mulled over the problems, another missile barrage hit home, rumbling the vessel through her very keel.

"Damage report, please!"

"Two compartments on our starboard side just spaced! An entire damage control party just decompressed away!"

"A maneuvering thruster just malfunctioned at the same spot! Heat containment measures have absorbed most of the fuel blast but we're leaking emissions there, ma'am!"

"Damnit to Mercury!" Claris cursed as she slammed her fist against her armrest. "We can't dawdle like this forever!"

Yet Harry didn't share her pessimism. Instead, he looked closer at the readout. The blown thruster had sent out a wave of heat that blanketed an ever-wider area. His eyes slowly widened as he considered a new possibility.

"Claris. You said the enemy tracks us by heat, right? What if we purposefully blow out a lot of heat at once?"

The commander looked surprised for a moment, as if she expected Harry wouldn't have a clue what to do. Yet the more she thought about it… "It might work.. but we'll blow out maneuvering thrusters if we applied it evenly throughout the ship. We'll cripple our agility severely if we overload the entire lot."

"What about other sources of heat? Bombs, torpedoes, what about the bucket loads of coolant that is sitting idle in our expanded reservoirs?"

The _Immortal Marauder_ had been fighting through the enemy for many hours. Her constant firing produced massive amounts of heat that had been shunted through specially constructed conduits into several pocket dimensions filled beforehand with an ungodly amount of liquid coolant. All of that thick, water-like substance must be boiling into steam at the moment.

"It could work." The woman said with wide, disbelieving eyes. As she performed some rudimentary calculations, she grew more hopeful. "It can definitely work. If we time this right, we can open the outer emergency release valves and spray the coolant out into vacuum, where it will quickly expand into a wide mist. If we use the opportunity to make an emergency course adjustment and cut the engines immediately after, we might very well make it out alive."

The entire crew prepared for the stunt. Equipment was locked down, tubes were being connected and disconnected, and the engineers performed the careful adjustments required to expel the coolant in the right way. If it didn't come out as a mist, the hot liquid might splash onto the Maddie's hull, painting her brightly in the dark. Everything needed to go perfectly.

The little girl in Harry's arms watched all the proceedings with uncomprehending eyes. She continued to hug tightly to her savior, as if he might disappear forever if she let go. As she closed her sad, tired eyes, Harry took his seat in preparation for unexpected g-forces.

"When we turn in our new direction, we'll be overburning our engines, sir. The ship isn't designed for it so we may damage the main thrusters or encounter some unexpected malfunction. It's going to be a rough ride."

"Anything is preferable to destruction. Go ahead, Claris."

"Yes sir." She answered, and when all section heads reported that their preparations were complete, she slammed the button and engaged the plan.

"Expelling coolant now!"

Just outside into open space, the _Marauder_ opened all of her release valves dotted throughout her damaged and scarred hull. These openings immediately released a finely pressured steam of coolant. The hot sprays expanded outwards with great velocity until they engulfed the entire vessel into a comet of hot vapor, obscuring her from outside eyes.

Right after most of the coolant had flared out, the Maddie engaged her surviving maneuvering thrusters and oriented herself downwards to her starboard side. Even before she finished her course adjustment, her huge rear thrusters burned brightly, momentarily eclipsing even the coolant. Yet the sudden force and all the mass-reducing magic did their work, accelerating the _Marauder_ into a new and unexpected direction.

On the bridge, everyone braced themselves in their protective cocoons as sideways g-forces pushed them away. Harry's rescued girl had it especially hard since she didn't have her own seat. She woke up rudely and bawled out as she was being momentarily crushed.

Luckily for her and all others, the sensation passed quickly, and the inertial dampeners regained full control over gravity and momentum. Having put up a sufficient burst of acceleration, the main engines cut off and began to run cold, quickly obscuring the vessel inside the expanding mist to all forms of heat detection.

Minutes passed in the bridge as each crewmen waited for signs of pursuit.

Lieutenant Kenzie eventually made her report. "We got away, sir. I'm not detecting any heat signatures coming after us."

A small and ragged cheer escaped everyone's lips, but Claris quickly shushed them. "We're not out of the woods yet! Concentrate on your assigned duties! Focus on damage control and stealth. I don't want any part of our ship running hot. Reduce our power grid as low as we can and shut down power to all non-essential systems."

"Aye aye, ma'm!"

Despite the risk that this battle might continue, Harry was pretty much convinced that this was the end of it. He smiled. Even though the Maddie had suffered more from her first combat action than anyone would have wanted, they exacted a disproportionate amount of punishment in return to the Callistoans. There was no doubt which side won this engagement. Even as the psi-ops girl continued to cry, Harry couldn't resist letting out a vindictive laugh.

* * *

Later, when all of the emergency procedures have finished, Harry entered the medical bay. He already dispensed with his bulky combat armor and changed into a more comfortable vacsuit. The suffering he encountered inside was palpable. While a lot of the more critical cases were put into healing or stasis pods, the less seriously injured men were lying under heavy sedation with burn marks or missing limbs. Under Dr. Scranton's steady leadership, his nurses tended to the injured with skillful direction.

"Where's Dr. Selner?" Harry asked when he finally tracked down Scranton.

The busy man shrugged as he programmed another healing pod to begin restorative procedures. "Beats me. She didn't have a mark on her and I've got worse cases to deal with. Now can you be so kind as to get out of my way while I try to save some lives!"

A bit peeved when Scranton blew him off, Harry nevertheless restrained himself. The doctor was right. The least Harry could do was show some respect to those who fell in the course of their service to him. The young captain looked around, trying to find the elusive redhead when he finally spotted her in a nearby examination room. The boy immediately cut through the crowd and entered the chamber.

"Selner!"

The woman looked a little haggard and unkempt, but she was as beautiful as Harry first toyed with her. Her lustrous green eyes flicked upwards with joyous warmth, but they quickly dulled when she turned her attention to her patient. The psi-ops kid slept peacefully under a firm dose of relaxants.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Harry asked angrily. "The girl's a dangerous psi-ops agent. I specifically ordered her into the brig."

A bit of her usual defiance crept back up. "She's hardly older than three, Harry. I can hardly imagine she is even capable of hurting a fly. Besides, she's asleep at the moment."

Selner brushed her hand over the young kid's forehead. "I heard all about your expedition. How many did you find?"

It took a small moment for Harry to catch on what Selner was asking. "I found at least a hundred of them.. all between three and eleven, and that's just one base. There's no telling how many other facilities the Callistoans have."

"It might not just be Callisto who's experimenting with kids like this. Io might very well have their own department."

The boy shrugged. "If they do, they hide it well."

"So.. I see you rescued one of the captives. What.. did you do with the others?"

There was no beating around the bush for this one. "I destroyed the facility. I.. I don't expect any survivors."

"I see." Already jaded, Selner accepted the news with grim resolve. "At least their suffering has ended."

Expecting some kind of recrimination for leaving so many innocents behind, Harry was momentarily taken aback at her lack of righteous indignation. "What happened to you, Selner?"

The woman sighed deeply. "I'm tired, Harry. My.. ex-husband has not been gentle with me. When the tables were finally turned.. I behaved just as bad as him. And you know what? I liked it. God, I've become a monster."

"You're not a monster."

"That's easy for you to say, Harry." She hissed, but her eyes turned soft as she beheld the sleeping child. "We're all monsters here."

"We didn't turn into them by choice. You are still the woman I know, the woman I love. Nothing changes that." The captain paused for a moment, gauging his recently returned concubine's mood. "It's always others who force us to become what we are. Don't blame yourself."

Both shared a quiet pause. Eventually Selner's scans finished. She brought up the results.

"Hmm.. curious."

"What is it?"

"Whoever captured her had already worked on her brain. She shows signs of a number of surgeries. Several parts of her brains have been.. tampered with. Though not to the extent of the earlier specimens Scranton had examined, still these researchers were able to unlock the subject's telepathy."

"What does this mean?"

"A lot of things, though I need more time to interpret the results. I can already tell you that she's not going to grow up normally. Her hormonal balance is permanently out of shift, and some of the implants her captors put in will distort her mental maturity. With more radical modifications, she wouldn't have lived long enough to become an adult. At this stage, the damage to the child will probably be limited to autism."

Autism. That was a heavy sentence to an innocent life. Harry felt truly sorry for the kid, if only at that brief moment. She didn't deserve to be caught up in this madness. "Is there any way to limit the damage?"

The doctor mused for a moment. "I'll have to look the matter up, but I think there is nothing we can do besides provide the patient with a normal childhood. Human brains are remarkably resilient and have a certain capacity to repair itself. If the girl suffers no further trauma, then she will grow to be a relatively functional adult."

"Then once we finish studying her for all she's worth, we'll return her to her family."

"You can't." Selner snapped. "Whoever experimented on her in the first place will just put her back in their lab. And who's to say her family is still alive?"

As much as Harry wanted to think otherwise, the doctor's words made sense. He'll have to search her genetics for a match in the public record in order to be certain, but her parents might already be dead for months. It was the best way to prevent nosy civilians from poking their noses too deeply into secretive matters.

"Then we'll pass her on to an orphanage in Io."

"She won't be safe there either. The abnormalities within this girl's brain will show up like a light bulb in any health inspection. The Ioans will be very interested in her once they learn that she can read minds. If they haven't already established a psi-ops project, they'll be sure to start one once they have irrefutable proof of its existence."

The wizard let out a frustrated growl. "Then what the fuck do you want to do with the darn brat?!"

"Isn't it obvious? We adopt her."

For a moment, Harry stood stunned. "Are you fucking mad? What the hell am I supposed to do with a kid? I'm not sure you still remember, but I'm not exactly the best parenting material around here!"

"You must adopt the girl. No one else in the world bar our enemies is equipped to raise a special girl like her." Selner calmly explained as she continued to stroke the innocent baby's cheek. "Aren't you the least bit interested in using her telepathy?"

"It's Legilimency."

"However you want to call it, her ability can prove to be an unparalleled boon to you. And what if that's not the extent of her abilities? What if she can learn to wield your brand of magic? Don't you want to expand your power? Apprenticing this toddler and teaching her your ways will strengthen you against these far-off offspring I've heard you've conceived."

'_How did Selner learn about that so quickly?' _Harry frowned, but he brushed the question aside. "Selner, I don't want to raise a kid. I don't have any time or patience to babysit a complete stranger. As your captain, I order you to study all there is to learn about her condition. Once we return to Io, I'll see to it that she grows up in a nice, protected orphanage. Little girls have no place in the war that I'm raging against my own bloodlines."

With those final words, Harry turned away and left the examination room.

"She's already part of your war." Selner murmured, just as Harry closed the door behind her. "As am I."

* * *

The tense meeting with Selner dragged down Harry's good mood. When he toured the ship, surveying most of the battle damage, his mood soured even further. Claris walked besides him, providing a running explanation on what he saw.

"Behind this hatch is the ruined compartment where the maneuvering thruster exploded. A damage control team composed of a house elf and several humans were trying to stem a fuel leak when the missile hit some of the exposed fuel lines. The consequences were.. dramatic. As far as we know, the entire team died instantly. The blast might have even ruptured the surrounding compartments but it seemed your safeguards have limited the damage to the ship by shunting most of the blast wave into an empty pocket dimension."

Harry was glad one of his magical inventions worked. It was a pity that still hadn't prevented the deaths. He should have issued each crewmember with an emergency portkey that would pull them into a safe area. Yet to provide a portkey to all 600 men and women aboard the _Immortal Marauder_ took up an inordinate amount of magic. The half-weakened wizard simply didn't possess enough reserves to spare on issuing an abundance of portkeys. The hull armor was his top priority, followed shortly after by the superbombs and supertorpedoes. By all accounts his investments paid off, as the Maddie was still alive while Callisto burned. Still, Harry felt somewhat responsible for all the dead and wounded under his command.

"How are our casualties?"

The commander's tone mellowed out a bit due to the sensitive nature of the topic. "It's not good… but much better than a raid like this ought to have. We have suffered seventy dead and a hundred-and-twenty wounded, about half of which are critically injured and need more dedicated facilities."

"Will all the wounded survive long enough for us to arrive back home?"

"The stasis pods will insure all of them stay alive. There might be five or sex exceptions but you'll have to ask Dr. Scranton for the details."

Nodding, Harry switched to his next concern. "Will the _Marauder_ still be combat capable?"

"She's not in a good shape, sir. We lost a lot of gunnery personnel to those missiles, and our armaments themselves aren't looking very fine. Taken together with the dumped coolant and missing armor layers, we're about half as effective. A well-coordinated destroyer squadron can finish us off."

"Hm." Harry grunted. "What's the deal with the hull armor anyway? I thought I enchanted them quite robustly against most naval weaponry. It should have lasted longer."

"We faired pretty well against cruiser-class and below, but it's the battleship that opened the cracks. Its Class X railguns are meant to pierce the hardest extrasolar material known to man. Two volleys from those frontal guns would have split apart a normal cruiser. We're lucky to survive with only a pierced underbelly. Smaller pursuers used the vulnerabilities to widen the damage. Not even your magic was able to cope under the barrage."

This was distressing news to Harry. It took only one successful penetration, one door in the foot to open up the Maddie to subsequent damage. How he wished he could afford a battleship instead of a cruiser. _'Though I doubt any shipyard would allow me to operate one independently. These star nations hoard them as if they are nukes. Considering what one just did to my ship, I'm inclined to believe the threat.'_

"How are we doing in our trip back to Io?"

"Well, the Callistoans are not in pursuit of us anymore. We've given them enough of a slip to escape their sensor envelope. We should be safe from any major patrols. Any scouting force we might encounter here on out will primarily be frigates or mobile carriers. Still, our battle damage is slowing us and our supplies are not in the best shape, particularly our fuel reserves."

"Do we have enough to make it back home?"

"Oh certainly, but we need to conserve the fuel that we have so we can't be liberal in our acceleration and deceleration. It will take up to two months to reach Io."

Two months was a long time. "Is there nothing we can do to shorten the trip?"

"No, sir. We really lost a lot of reserves."

"Damnit, I want to be back home as soon as possible. Hanging about in open space with all this damage is making us a juicy target."

"I understand sir, but we need to work with what we have. I'll try and organize the repair teams to bring back as much capability as we can, but I should warn you that the Maddie really needs a drydock in order to exact full repairs. A lot of the structural damage caused by the battleship bent our hull pretty deeply. Whole sections of our hull structure need to be replaced from that single encounter."

"How much will it all cost?"

"I'm not sure, but it will be in the millions. A loose estimate will be fifty million."

Ouch. Harry mentally winced at that number, though some of the bounty caused by his raid will probably be able to cover the cost. Still, fifty million credits was a hefty amount and he didn't relish wasting all of that cash.

"Oh, don't worry Harry." Claris smirked. "If we repair our ship at your own shipyard, we can likely half that amount. Your house-elves can salvage a lot of expensive components. Replacing missing hull plating comprises most of the actual cost that we can't avoid."

"Alright. Send me an estimate on our losses and the costs we've incurred to me by the end of the week. Also coordinate with my company back on Io so that they have the materials ready at hand by the time of our arrival. I want this ship back to full capability as fast as possible."

"As you wish, captain, but…" Claris trailed off, if just a little. "The repairs will also take time. While the house-elves help a lot, if we don't want to draw too much attention we should spend at least two to three months on it. A ship this size normally takes at least four to six months for a major overhaul."

Harry glowered silently as he walked forward in order to inspect the next ruined compartment. All of this damage seemed to cost both time and money to repair. Things were moving too slowly for him. He wasn't satisfied with this single raid. He knew that most of the Jovian powers would be at war due to this incident. His brazen attack on their infrastructure went beyond a mere provocation. Only a full-out war would satisfy all of the parties involved. Harry wanted to be part of this war and earn glory for himself and his ship. To hear that he would have to spend two months travelling back and three months stuck in a repair yard meant he would miss the opening stages of the conflict.

"Goddammit."

* * *

The _Immortal Marauder_ slowly lumbered out of Callisto's burning orbit and headed back towards Io. At one part of the ship, Professor Zhang gloated over his five captive professors that he kidnapped from his former employer, the West-Jovian University of Technology. The captives were defiant and disbelieving, but after a few more spectacular displays of magic, Zhang began to worm away their doubt.

At another part of the ship, Chief Cleveland performed the tedious task of debriefing his marines. While casualties had been light during their deployment on space stations and on the surface of the moon, the naval battle exacted a larger toll on their numbers when the battleship pierced a marine compartment. The losses hurt everyone's mood and dampened the elation of the successful raid.

And in Harry's quarters, Star sighed in frustration as her owner refused to take advantage of the carnal comfort she was expertly able to provide. The gorgeous Veela descendant pressed up to Harry's naked back with her own unclothed chest, hoping to light his fire.

"I'm not interested Star. Maybe another time."

He said that yesterday as well, to Star's growing worry. As one of the few people on the ship who made absolutely no contribution to the recent battle, she constantly feared being set aside by Harry. He might even give her up to the crew as a public toilet or something equally depraved. The only way to insure her own wellbeing was to prove herself valuable to her Master.

So she resolved to become his executive assistant and political advisor. _'Mercury knows the bumbling kid needs it. He has no tact at all.'_

"Harry. What's bothering you?"

He didn't answer immediately. For a moment, Star thought he fell asleep, but he eventually responded. "A lot of things. The casualties. The time it takes to get back home. The time it takes to bring the ship up to full strength. And also… the psi-ops girl."

Star continued to brush up her lithe and graceful body against her paramour's scarred flesh as she analyzed the situation. "You shouldn't think on the issues too heavily. The casualties are regrettable, but they fell in the line of duty. Servicemen all knew of the risks when they signed up. Their surviving families are well-compensated."

"That doesn't make it right. They were _my_ crew. I.. I should have made a better effort into protecting them. With my magic, I could have shielded them better.. provided them all with portkeys.."

"Harry, don't beat yourself up on this. Hindsight is 20/20, and besides, you admitted yourself that your magical resources were limited. Dr. Selner would probably be able to tell you that medical professionals face the dilemma between costs and benefits every day. The state of medicine today is so advanced that we can cure almost all ills known to man, but in a practical sense only few are lucky enough to receive full treatment. It's simply too expensive to serve each and every human with the most cutting-edge treatments."

This perspective did make Harry feel better. He wished Selner was here, back in his bed where she belonged, but the stubborn woman refused, preferring instead to stay by the psi-ops girl's side. Harry could have ordered him here and fuck her silly. Use a magic compulsion even, but what would be the point? The immortal boy delighted in Selner's distinctive brand of rebellion and subservience. She was so full of life and conviction. To force the doctor into becoming what she was not would take all the love away from their relationship.

Unaware of Harry's musing, Star went right on. "And onto the matter of the delays, that might not be such a bad thing at all. Don't you see what you've accomplished? With a single ship, you destroyed shipyards, space stations and many other national assets. Callisto will never be the same after your successful raid. In the eyes of the solar system, they have been publically humiliated by you. In the next couple of months, the entire solar system will focus all of their sensors at you. While some attention might be good, too much of it will amplify your missteps while diminish your subsequent accomplishments. Let the excitement and controversy die down while you recover. Once the war kicks into high gear, you'll find another opportunity."

"I might as well take the time." Harry agreed with a bit of resignation. "Claris already explained to me that the first stages of the war will likely involve minor battles between patrol fleets. There's little glory to be found there, since it's pretty hard for two squadrons to encounter one another. Only when the lunar colonies start striking at their asteroid bases in the Jupiter Outback will things start to become interesting."

"Exactly. That's also a situation where the _Marauder_ will prove more useful. She's much better at hitting big, stationary targets than smaller nimbler ones."

"We have the fighters in the hangar bay for that, even if we didn't use them during the raid."

"And about the child…" Star broached, switching the topic. Immediately she felt Harry's shoulders tense. "I think you should accept Selner's suggestion, and adopt her into your household, with Lady Amande's consent of course. Besides all the obvious benefits a Legilimens can provide you, such an act of selfless grace will endear you personally to the public of Io. Those who worship you for giving the Callistoans a bloody nose will fall in love with you even more, while those who oppose your violent actions will object to you slightly less. It's a good PR stunt overall."

"PR stunt. How stupid. I can't believe the public of this age is as dumb as the one I left long ago."

"Human nature has always stayed constant. We are not as different from our hunter-gatherer ancestors as we might think."

The idea disgusted Harry, but he had no reason to deny it. Even after two million years of evolution, humans still preen like gorillas and screech like chimpanzees. The line between barbarism and sophistication was still remarkably thin. Even the wizard himself couldn't escape his own primal instincts.

Still, taking care of a child was not one of his deepest desires. "I don't want the kid. She's not my child and I'm not a parent. I've never been a parent."

"You're wasting an opportunity, Harry. Think about it. A little girl by your side might do you something good. You'll be sharing the responsibility with Amande, and you have the rest of your crew to help you out if you need it. Without someone like you to hold up her hand, the girl doesn't have anyone else to look up to. Her Legilimency will insure of that at least. Think about it."

And Harry did, as much as he wanted to avoid the problem. He had an opportunity to do something right for a change. Yet the prospect of becoming responsible of a very young life scared him. He already felt burdened by the responsibility to safeguard his crew and make sure they stayed alive. That in itself was much preferable to becoming a child's caretaker and role model. If he screwed up in any way.. if he ruined the girl's already ruined childhood even further.. he'd never forgive himself.

The wizard had slain so many other psi-ops commandos already. Roughly a hundred perished from his superbomb. But those deaths were distant. Clinical. Nothing personal, just business. The girl was different. Her bright eyes and sparkling dark hair might as well represent his own flesh and blood, the children that never came to be due to his wife's unfortunate murder. Parenting was a serious responsibility, and Harry deeply feared what might happen should it go wrong.

"Don't be afraid. Many men are when their wives grow round, but most turn out to be wonderful dads. Think about it."

His pet's constant prodding indeed forced Harry to face the issue with all of his attention. As much as he wanted to forget the entire matter, he just couldn't fall asleep.

Star's blood red lips curled into an impish smile. Everything was going to plan so far. Upon Selner's return, Star had sought the respectable doctor out. The pet had heard all about the infamous concubine, and how she once held a significant amount of sway among the crew. Star had no doubt such a formidable woman would worm herself back into influence, so Star sought to meet the lady herself and become part of her circle.

It was the only way for advancement, really. Star still deeply feared and resented Claris, and she was not that blind to see that the Commander had been staffing the ranks of the ship with more of her lackeys. Dr. Selner, Lady Amande and the rest of the peace doves provided a strong counterpoint against Commander Claris' war hawks. Much of Star's own interests coincided with Selner's own.

While their brief conversation did not reveal that much kinship, the two women at least shared enough commonalities to work together. Instead of competing destructively against each other for Harry's affection to the benefit of Claris, Selner and Star agreed to work together in maintaining their influence in order to keep the dark haired commander at bay. It was a good deal for Star, and she accepted Selner's request to poke Harry with the adoption issue until he relented.

From her lover's constant sighs and squirmed, it seemed she was well on her way to success. _'He's going to give in sooner or later. No one is that heartless. Not even Harry.'_

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	52. II: Making Vows

December 30, 2012  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: I'm currently in hibernation, so I am not updating this fic very frequently. That doesn't mean I have abandoned this fic though. I'm just lazy and I'm taking it easy. Sometime in the future, I'll get into another writing mood, and I'll crank out lots of chapters in short succession. This is not that time however, so you'll have to make do with sporadic updates.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Making Vows_

* * *

Io. One of the four great lunar nations of Jupiter. The dust moon orbited around the massive gas giant with great intensity, and that energy only increased as public footage of Captain Harry Antares' raid on Callisto streamed into their households. In addition to the myriad of spy satellites peeping in from remote locations, the wireless feeds of Callisto's own news networks presented not just Io, but also the other Jovian powers the sheer power of the _Immortal Marauder_ and the awesome devastation the cruiser had wrought upon the unsuspecting moon.

The normally pristine, terraformed world of Callisto was burning. Of the hundreds of space stations and other sattelites, several dozen either exploded into pieces or featured gaping holes. Several trillions worth of military and economic assets were wiped out during the brazen attack. The surface of the green moon had also not escaped unscathed, with many facilities burning fiercely many hours after the raid was over. Throughout all this material destruction, the untold number of lives aboard those affected stations or down on the surface tallied in the millions.

This was not a raid. This was an outrage. The short days of horror and sadness soon made place for anger and calls for retribution. The entirety of Callisto was angry, and only the head of Captain Harry himself could placate their primal bloodlust. The surviving members of the legislature soon passed on a series of emergency laws, one of which was a declaration of war. The green nation of Callisto would not rest until the red desert moon of Io ground into dust.

This set off a series of rapid motions in Jovian politics. As Io's allies, the ice moon of Europa had a moral obligation to stand by their side and declare war on Callisto in turn. Truth to be told, however, Europa had some leeway in this matter, as technically Io was the principal aggressor in the opening of this conflict. Europa had the option of washing their hands clean when an ally of theirs attempted to drag them down into a war not of their choosing.

It just so happened that Europa went through the motions anyway, and declared war on Callisto. Their leaders made a calculating assessment of the pros and cons, and after much deliberation, a war proved to be advantageous after all. They had no love for the Callistoans, and the opportunity to bring down one of the four great powers was very attractive, especially considering Io's great military prowess as evidenced by the _Immortal Marauder_'s technological innovations, which they envy greatly. It was hoped that if Europa committed fully to Io's defense, that they would be granted a piece of that marvelous new power.

The only wildcard in this equation was the fourth, and oft-ignored lunar nation Ganymede. It was the largest moon of Jupiter, of the entire solar system even. Like Europa, Ganymede possessed a hard crust that covered a vast, internal salt water ocean of intense pressure. Unlike Europa however, Ganymede possessed a functional magnetosphere much like Earth that shielded it from deathly radiation. This allowed the Ganymedians to build more extensive on the surface of their planet, proving them to be the most populous Jovian power. While the brown orb might not possess the distinguishing beauty of its fellow moons, their industrial strength was not to be trifled with. And when the Ocean of Jupiter finally passed judgment over the conflict, other nations shook.

They restrained themselves on ganging up on Callisto. While it was tempting to bring down the wrath of three Jovian powers on one of their rivals, they realized the same thing could happen to them in turn. Io and Europa were no friends of Ganymede, and it was only a matter of time before their heads went to the chopping block. On the other hand, their relations with Callisto were cordial, business-like, but not condescending. There was a potential of a deeper partnership there. If Ganymede rode in to the rescue, Callisto would be eminently grateful to the brown moon. There was much risk here.. but the rewards were more than sufficient. And it wasn't as if Callisto was completely defenseless. They had one major trump card, which they revealed to the Ganymedians with the utmost of secrecy. That particular revelation changed almost all of Ganymede's thinking.

After a month of furious negotiation, Callisto and Ganymede sealed the deal, and united them against their now-mutual enemies. The price was heavy for the Callistoans, for the Ganymedians extracted many lucrative concessions, but once the Ioan and Europan threats were crushed, there would be more than enough wealth available to pay for all of the expenses.

The Second Jovian War erupted in earnest, and all four major powers mobilized for total war. The rest of the solar system observed the Jovian nations at a distance; already wringing their own hands at the profits they would make supplying war materiel to the feuding nations. Everyone had something to win from this conflict. It was a pity that the true magnitude of suffering would only be apparent long after the war had concluded.

* * *

The Immortal Marauder was well on her way back to Io from her devastating raid on Callisto. The vessel left the raid in a heavily damaged and leaking state. Now, a month into the return journey, the crew has patched up the holes as best as they could. While the ship still looked like she was in shambles, at least she wouldn't fall apart.

The death toll was substantial, and all of the crew spent their weeks either grieving or coping with the situation. Harry was glad that none of his men went nuts. The military types were trained for this, and knew how to keep themselves in check. Besides, in their view, it could have gone a lot worse. Sacrifices of this kind were a fact of life in military service. Those who weren't inured to the harsh life of a spacer quickly learned to go with the flow.

Life returned to normal eventually, and the routine of repairing and maintaining the ship consumed most of the surviving crew. Not that Harry paid any mind to all of these issues. His concerns were solely focused on the small little child before him. The girl, a sweet little dark-haired runt, looked up at him uncertainly, as if picking up on his unease. With her disturbingly easy ability to bypass his admittedly pathetic Occlumens barriers, she probably did, even if she couldn't understand all of the words or concepts.

"What is your name, child?" He asked as gently as he could when he kneeled down close to the three-year old.

It took some prompting, but she eventually said, "Illana."

"That's a beautiful name, Illana." And he meant it, though he felt sad for asking his next question. "Illana, do you know.. what happened to your parents?"

The girl fell silent, whether from her own memories or from Harry's own recollection of the kidnapping he didn't know. While the solarnet articles were deliberately vague, the content was enough for the wizard to piece together what had happened. The Callistoan psi-ops research group only wanted the kid, not the parents. In order to minimize any fuzz and keep as little people from guessing what had happened, all witnesses were disposed.

Illana began to cry, and Harry quickly swept her up into his arms. While he wasn't the most sympathetic sort of person, even he felt completely swept by Illana's grief. The girl radiated an innocent brand of sadness that was several times more powerful than an adult's version of more rational loss. Grown men and women were more in control over their emotions. They could rationalize their losses, minimize their impact on their mood, and move on from their tragedies. This girl, this orphan had no means to cope with the deaths of her parents. Harry, having never enjoyed a loving upbringing himself, could not fully understand what that loss meant. Yet as an orphan himself, he deeply understood the desire for affection. He gave it freely to Illana, and she noticed.

Her big, teary eyes looked up to him, and after a few moments of silence, she started to hug him back. Harry carefully adjusted her hold on her and swept the back of her tiny head with his hand. "There there, girl, it will be okay."

He let her settle down. No matter how long she took to exhaust her tears, Harry endured her grief with all the grace of a fellow human being. He felt very human then, consoling another person's child. _'I have taken so many lives that I forgot how precious they were.'_ While he didn't stray any further and burden himself with the guilt of his mass murders, he still felt some need to take responsibility. Holding this tiny life within his arms was a way for him to redeem himself to whoever passed judgment over him when his age had finally passed. It was a pittance, really, but it was the right thing to do. _'That's strange. Since when did my 'saving people thing' return?'_

He pondered over his conflicting feelings, up until Illana finally dried her tears. She looked up at him again in that uncertain manner, as if he was about to strike her down or something. Carefully, Harry grasped her by her body and lifted her up a little straighter. "Your parents are gone, Illana, but they want you to be happy. They want you to grow up into a fine little lady and make them proud. You will need someone to take you in and raise you up. Would you.." The boy broke up a little, feeling very uncertain about his next words. Yet he had to say them regardless of his own discomfort. "Would you.. allow me to be your new daddy?"

The girl didn't respond immediately. She scrutinized him deeply, and he had no doubt she was looking at more than just his facial expression.

"I won't be replacing your.. first parents. They will always love you, and I will never take that away from you. I just want to make you happy as well, Illana. Together with my wife, we'll be raising you into our own cozy family. What do you say?"

Tears welled up in her eyes again, yet she didn't fling herself away from her hug. Instead she hugged him back, calling, "Daddy!" as she embraced him deeply. While Illana bubbled up nonsensical words, Harry patiently let her emotions roll over him. He smiled sadly down her fragile form, returning her love in equal measures. He felt immensely relieved that Illana accepted her proposal, accepted _him_ despite all the darkness he had hidden within the recesses of his mind.

He never sought out to become a parent. Fatherhood was something he lost hope for after the loss of so many loved ones, back in the time before. Yet.. family was a great thing. Perhaps it was time for him to become reacquainted with it, and give himself some peace. Illana certainly deserved it, and at that very moment, Harry wanted to do nothing but make her happy. He looked up at the woman seated discretely from the two.

Selner nodded at him with a smile, but kept her silence. As much as she wanted to share the love, she knew it was not her place to participate. She willingly let the role of motherhood be taken by Amande. _'Hopefully she will take the news positively.' _Though that was far from certain. Due to security reasons, the _Immortal Marauder_ coasted along in radio silence. They would bring many surprises to Io once they arrived.

* * *

The cabinet meeting ended. Anastasia of the House Antares kept a reserved smile as she stood by the door of the conference chamber. Her ministers all shook her hand and said their goodbyes. After the final, rotund member of her cabinet waddled out of the room, she closed the door with a final click.

The moment she was alone, the Prime Minister of Io slumped her shoulders. Anastasia hadn't felt so exhausted in years. The war that erupted almost two months ago was consuming her entire schedule. Not a day passed by without feeling the effects. Millions of businesses were affected. Countless of international companies invoked a standard clause in a contract that allowed them to break off business relationships with Jovian firms in the event a war erupted.

A small recession started right then and there, though the slump only affected civilian businesses. The industries involved in the war received an incredible uptick of activity. From mineral extraction, to weapons manufacturing, the war industry had a field day. _'Including Firestorm Solutions.'_ The Prime Minister wondered as she dropped back in her seat.

A hidden door opened, allowing a single figure entry in the otherwise highly guarded chamber. Hand-painted portraits of past Prime Ministers stared emptily at the new entrant as the uniformed man soberly closed the door. The walls echoed Admiral Wellesley's footsteps as he calmly paced the carpeted floor. He then took a seat at the opposite end of the long, narrow table.

"So." He started, then ended.

Anastasia rolled her eyeballs towards him for a few seconds and held the gaze. She then lowered her gaze and uncharacteristically leaned her chin against her knuckles. "So what?"

"He returns tomorrow."

"Yes. Yes he does."

It didn't take a genius to realize who Wellesley referred to. She tried not to think too hard on the problem that soon fell into everyone's laps. Captain Harry, of the noble House of Antares, was projected to arrive in Io tomorrow afternoon. Their pickets detected the _Immortal Marauder'_s approach a few days ago. The scarred and damaged cruiser leaked plenty of emissions for Io's most sensitive ship detectors to recognize. Wellesley immediately ordered the news to be kept secret, but of course some idiot technician had to brag about it on peoplenet before the gag order came down the hierarchy. The entire lunar colony went up in frenzy when the news spread like wildfire.

"What will you do, my sister? Do you really want to proceed with the ceremony?"

The lady stared up at him as if he was seriously questioning her decision.

"He is a liability." Wellesley stated. "A menace. A walking bomb. The more we rely on him, the harder it will bite us back. We should keep it low-key, and try to diminish our involvement with his operations. If you value our House, you should do the right thing."

"That is not your call to make. I have canceled the victory celebration that was scheduled to take part, but I cannot deny the people completely." The woman warned, and started to sit straight. "Io is unaccustomed to a war of this scale. Rituals like hero worship help distract the common folk from the more.. unpleasant aspects of what we do. We must maintain public support."

"Captain Harry is hardly a suitable choice. He bears our name, but he is nothing like us. He will drag our name along with our reputation through the mud before this war is done. Stop the ceremony."

Anastasia was not amused. "Let me tell you something, brother. You don't tell me what to do. I am the one making the orders here. As you once said it yourself, Captain Harry is an extremely dangerous but effective pawn. As long as we continue to provide the right incentives, I see no problem making use of his talents."

"I thought you were on my side. You are playing with fire here."

"And so are you. Just because you convinced me to go ahead with the war does not mean I will dance to your tune. Do not test my patience, Wellesley. Brother or not, my decision stands."

The admiral admitted defeat, and bowed before his sister. "Yes, Prime Minister." He answered neutrally, and stood up to leave.

His sister continued to level her gaze on his retreating form until he finally disappeared. No one was left in the chamber except for herself, and the many paintings of her predecessors. She stared at the center-most portrait, an extravagant visage of his grandfather, the former Dictat Leopold. _'Are you proud of me?'_ She asked, but knew the answer was not in her favor.

It bothered her a little for betraying Leopold's beliefs. Peace had brought a long age of stability and prosperity. Declaring war on Callisto threatened to collapse the lives of millions of her subjects. And for what? Territory? Concessions? _'No. This won't be like last time. I'm not going to sign a peace agreement trading a few trivial promises. I will see this war to the end, until two of Jupiter's four great moons are burning. This conflict must end.'_

She liked to think she was pursuing peace, in her own special way. Instead of doing everything she could to prevent conflict at any cost, she gave her blessing to this latest campaign, in the hope that none ever erupted again. _'Jupiter will be united, by Io and Europa's hands or by Callisto and Ganymede's fists._'

Anastasia wasn't stupid. He knew the threat that an outsider like Captain Harry presented. Yet his marriage to her cousin Amande and his relatively simple motivations allowed the House of Antares to maintain a loose but unbreakable grip on his actions. His capabilities and technology were far beyond what was capable in the colonies. All the intelligence reports so far pointed out conclusively that Harry was a Terran, either a renegade or an agent from one of the megacorporations. The sheer superiority of his proprietary technology denied any other alternative.

It could very well be that Io, Europa and all the other Jovian powers were being played by Captain Harry and the interests he served. Yet after conducting a careful risk-benefit analysis, her top intelligence analysts concluded that the former pirate's interests weren't opposed to Io's own goals. If she could manage to align the captain's interests more inexorably with her House's, then the technological wonders Harry seemed to possess would strengthen Io into the pre-eminent force of Jupiter.

The risks were great, to be sure. As she stood up to leave the room, Anastasia had to admit that Wellesley's caution was not unwarranted. Strangers bearing gifts always had other reasons to give away something valuable. She was sufficiently aware of examples in history where outsiders managed precipitate the fall of a nation, such as General An Lushan during the Tang Dynasty in China, or Rasputin in Russia. Yet at other times these outside influences could mean the difference between surviving and extinction.

'_The balance of power is too even.'_ She thought as she passed through the ornate gilded doors. _'In order to avoid a protracted war, I have to use every means I can to gain an advantage. If it means co-opting a Terran agent, then so be it.'_

The doors closed with a final thump, leaving the conference chamber in complete isolation.

* * *

The _Immortal Marauder_ sailed into her berth at Harry's shipyard with measured grace. The captain insisted his ship be docked at his own private drydock, to the firm protests of the Ioan Navy. Surprisingly enough, the admirals eventually relented.

Then, they demanded that the welcoming ceremony be held right inside.

This presented a problem to Firestorm Solutions, but not an insurmountable one. Harry smirked at the offer once it was transmitted to his terminal, and accepted it without much worry. He would be stupid not to have contingencies in place. With just a moment's notice, the shipyard's technicians and house-elves cleaned up the entire place and hid all of the incriminating materials in spacious pocket dimensions. By the time the preparation teams arrived, none of Wellesley's spies found anything unusual. The work teams solely focused on setting the stage for the upcoming event, refurbishing the entire bay until it was a virtual studio set for a big-budget holo drama.

When the ponderous ship finally docked into place, the passenger hatch opened, revealing Captain Harry to the myriad of holo cameras, and through those, to the rest of Io and the solar system. Harry expected some kind of pomp, but the absence of a wild and cheering crowd surprised him a little. He expected his return to go the same way he first arrived in the system. This was something different, and it was not just because of the immense amount of lighting that shone down on his form.

Eerily, Harry stepped forward, making sure his formal vacsuit with its accompanying blinking lights didn't reveal too much of his apprehension. Part of his worry was that the gangplank was not a modern one with handholds. Instead, it appeared to be a long, polished gold stretch that gleamed like liquid amber in the dance of lights. When the captain finally reached the surface, he audibly sighed in relief.

"Look upon me, son of Io."

The dark-robed woman before him drew his eyes in a whirl of solitary motion. The strip of gold from the gangplank hadn't ended when it touched the surface of the shipyard. It stretched on, right until it reached the wall. On that stretch, a lone, stately woman approached him with archaic clothing that wouldn't have been out of place during Harry's youth. When the woman finally stopped before him, Harry recognized the measured visage of Anastasia, the Prime Minister of Io.

"Lady Anastasia."

"Lord Harry, of the House Antares. Instrument of our martial spirit. Have you succeeded in exacting our revenge?"

"I have." Harry recited solemnly, knowing he had to play for the cameras. He found this little stage to be a bit inconvenient, but he didn't want to antagonize the Prime Minister needlessly by refusing to play along. Star strongly encouraged him to make the best out of it in order to gain Anastasia's favor.

"Blood has been spilled in your wake." Anastasia called, then reached into one of her many pockets to throw a handful of sand and dust at Harry.

Ignoring the flecks that landed into his mouth, Harry dutifully kept to the script. "My enemy's blood is not as thick as an Ioan."

Anastasia continued with the ritual, throwing another handful of Ioan dust at every line. "Lives have been lost."

"Ours are the only lives that matter. The toll was light."

"Damage has been sustained."

"Where one ship falters, a dozen more shall take her place."

"A war erupted due to your actions."

"I strode into the war with the blessing of Io."

"And with the blessing of Io," She passionately murmured as she dumped a dozen handful of native Ioan soil onto Harry's head. "We shall drive our chosen enemies to utter defeat."

A huge blast of wind erupted out of nowhere, scattering all of the sand that settled on Harry into a miniature red storm. Amazingly, the grains of sand coalesced into a narrow stream that danced almost perfectly around the two. Anastasia's folds ruffled strongly as well, but quickly settled down as the wind disappeared and the sand lost its guidance.

"Long ago, our ancestors journeyed beyond the confines of our mother planet, and settled in orbit around the wild, untamable moon of Io. For centuries we prospered, forming our own ways of life despite the shackles our former Terran overlords imposed on us. When the First and Greatest of our Dictats took the fateful step towards independence, he made a vow to the people he served."

This was Harry's cue to speak up again. "No matter the might of our enemies, we shall never relent."

"When victory against the Terrans seemed impossible, he made a vow to his House."

"We make our own victory."

"When his resolve faltered in light of the magnitude of his decisions, he made a vow to himself."

"I shall pursue this war to a favorable conclusion, or I shall die trying."

"Welcome home."

The ceremony was complete. By agreeing to participate in this ceremony, Harry had made a promise to the Io. He agreed to abide by the words he spoke. If the war against Callisto and Ganymede did not end favorably to the Ioans, he had to take his own life. The captain had no intention of ever following through with that promise, which made it easier for him to play along. If getting bits of sand thrown in his face a few times bought him some favor from Lady Anastasia, then so be it. Besides, Harry was quite sure that the Prime Minister herself benefited a lot by conducting this ceremony. _'Politics. How convoluted.'_

* * *

Lady Amande smiled in relief as Captain Harry finally stepped into one of the private lounges of the shipyard. "Harry. You've returned."

Carefully, she lifted herself from the couch and waded towards him. Without another word, she embraced him in a chaste but emotional hug.

"Amande." Harry said, and locked his arms with hers. When she pulled away, Harry had something else to say. "There's something you should know…"

"Hm?"

Instead of answering her, Harry left her arms and turned around. "Illana. Come forward."

An innocent little girl shuffled into view. She looked afraid and uncertain.

"I've.. picked her up during my raid on Callisto. She's a test subject.. an orphan.. and.. well.. I've decided to adopt her."

There it was. Harry spilled the news to his wife. Now he hoped she wouldn't take it too badly. He could imagine how unwelcome this surprise might arrive. Amande was not even eighteen yet. Raising a child already at her age clashed too much with modern customs, where couples often waited until their thirties or forties before thinking about kids.

Yet even as she continued to dart a confused gaze at her husband, Amande smiled encouragingly at the little doll. "Illana? So Harry decided to adopt you, did he not? Is he your daddy?"

The girl hid behind Harry's legs, but enough of her head stuck out for Amande to see that she was nodding. The teenage lady smiled, and knelt down with a welcoming hand.

"It's okay, sweetie. If he's your daddy, that makes me your mommy. Won't you come and give me a hug?"

After a few hesitant shifts, Harry gently pushed Illana forward. Only after Amande gently pressed the toddler in her arms did Illana cry and pour out her emotions. "Mommy!"

"There there, honey, there's nothing to be afraid of. Your mommy is here." The older girl soothed, and settled back against the couch to comfort her new 'daughter'.

After settling Illana into a nap, the Lady looked seriously at Harry. "You better explain everything."

"It's a long story." Harry sighed, but sat on the couch opposite to hers and condensed his experience in the psi-ops base into ten, slow minutes.

"I.. I had no idea the Callistoans would do such a thing.."

"Well, it's over for now, but I don't think we have seen the last of their psi-ops projects. They would have to be stupid to have all their eggs in one basket. As soon as my crew cracks the encryption on the database I stole from them, we'll have a much better picture on how elaborate their setup extends."

"Promise me you'll try to put a stop to this cruelty."

One more promise didn't hurt, and for once, it was something Harry wholeheartedly agreed to. "I promise, Amande. I don't want any more children to suffer either."

"Good." The noble smiled, and kissed Illana's brow.

"You've taken to Illana much better than I expected."

"I'm not like other girls. I was raised with responsibility in mind. Besides, she's just so cute. I can't leave her alone, not after hearing how much she suffered."

The three of them shared a silent but happy moment. It ended quickly, though, when Harry turned to other matters.

"How's our business doing? How are our finances looking right now."

"Oh, we're doing extremely well, despite the controversy your names attaches to our business dealing." Amande called up a miniature holo display and summoned up a balance sheet. "Ever since your actions in Callisto, business has been booming. Our customers seemed to think that if we fix up their ship for them that they be as strong as yours. We don't make such promises and try to correct their misgivings, of course, but still we receive a healthy amount of business, especially amongst other privateers who need to refurbish their ships up to spec in order to participate in the war."

With a layman's pair of eyes, the large numbers appeared quite impressive. His corporation's assets swelled to close to a billion credits. Considering his initial capital investment, that was an impressive growth, especially since Firestorm Solutions was not even a year old.

Still, something very important was missing. "This isn't our complete wealth, is it? What happened to the bounties we received from the Admiralty? We should be swimming in cash from both for the blood samples I received from Earth and the rewards issued for the destruction of strategic Callistoan assets."

"The Admiralty awarded five billion credits to you for both of those."

Five billion. That was far more money than he had ever earned in his career. He could commission several powerful cruisers from that money, and maintain them for the entire duration of the war. Of course, Admiral Wellesley would never give him permission to command multiple warships, but having a couple of spares around might be welcome…

Then he got a sick feeling in his stomach. "Where is all that money now? I pulled up my bank records as soon as my ship entered Io's security perimeter, and I only see a deposit of fifty million credits. I need much more cash on hand to buy replacement parts and bring the _Immortal Marauder_ up to spec after the beating she took."

"Oh don't worry Harry, all that money is safe." Amande said reassuringly. "I've invested all our excess savings into stock."

"What? Stock?"

"Yes, stock. I invested the funds into hundreds of Ioan corporations. While the consumer economy is currently dipping, the return we earn from military and industrial-related shares is currently enough to break-even."

"The _fuck_ you think you're doing, Amande!" Harry burst out, almost waking Illana from her sleep. "The last thing I need is for you to gamble all my hard-earned money away. We should sell all those shares immediately and—"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No." Amande repeated more firmly this time. "I knew you might grow upset at this, but you're being short-sighted now, Harry."

"You have no right to squander my savings in that casino for a few extra percentages of profit!"

"I'm not doing it for the money! I'm investing our funds in companies owned by people who we need to keep happy. Without me, without my investments, those industrialists and nobles would have torn us apart."

Amande elaborated on her actions. In addition to maintaining personal relations with a coterie of influential people, she used her investments to smooth over rivalries and engender cooperation. The large amount of attention Firestorm Solutions received over her shipyard meant that Amande had to buy stakes in Reyder & Whitlock and other shipyards in order to keep their competitors placated.

"Okay." Harry sighed again, still not completely sure why this was all necessary. "I can see why we need to bribe Reyder & Whitlock since they assembled the _Immortal Marauder_, but why invest into so many corporations?"

"You're not looking at the right metrics. I'm only engaging myself with a handful of wealthy businessmen. Most of them own or manage multiple different businesses. That's why I took a ten percent stake in a breakfast cereal manufacturer. This is how the game of influence is played, my dear. So far, it's earned us quite a bit of goodwill, enough to stave off calls to seize our assets after you so brutally outraged the pacifists when you ravaged Callisto."

It all sounded completely silly to Harry, but he gave up trying to comprehend his wife's actions. "Alright, I'll let you keep the stock we already have. However, I _don't_ want you to buy a single share more with my, got it? If you want to maintain this stupid game of yours, fine, but do it with your own earnings."

"Alright dear, whatever you say." Amande said with a coy smile. Then she stood up from the couch and carefully cradled the still-sleeping Illana in her arms. "Now, how about we return home to our apartment? I had our cook prepare an elaborate feast for your return. I'm sure I can call ahead and have him prepare a serving for our new daughter."

'_We have a cook?' _Harry wondered as he silently followed his wife on the way out, half-listening to her babble about buying new clothes for Illana and preparing the guest bedroom for her residence. To be honest, the boy expected to have his head full with debriefings and other administrative duties. Returning home for a meal with his newly expanded family was not what he had in mind after an exhausting mission where he slayed millions of Callistoans.

'_Well, I could use some time off. Claris can take care of the paperwork in my absence.'_

As deep as his hands were soaked in the blood of innocents, Harry was looking forward to a clean and hearty meal.

* * *

**End Notes:** Just an update.


	53. II: The Infamous Declaration

January 12, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Infamous Declaration_

* * *

"Thank you for your detailed after-action report on the actions of the _Immortal Marauder_ during the engagement at Callisto." Admiral Turner patiently said to Commander Claris, who sat opposite to him from his desk. "Yet.. I find myself puzzled over many discrepancies. This new type of clustering ordnance that you have employed.. they are far too powerful to be conventional. If it turns out you have turned to weapons not approved by international treaties, Io might come into very hot water."

"The ordnance we employed is not nuclear by nature. There is no fallout."

"That remains to be seen. We require to hand over a suitable sample to verify your.. claims."

"I think not." Claris answered serenely as she crossed her arms. "My captain's property remains his – you have no right to confiscate his war materiel unless he is under suspicion or guilty of violating the terms of his letter of marque. The weapons we employed remain firmly conventional. You can rely on Callisto's own news outlets to verify their nature."

"Commander Claris…" Turner gritted through clenched teeth. This debriefing went more difficult than he thought. Instead of facing a loudmouth infant, he sparred against an officer who knew what she was doing. He found the wretched women to be exceedingly opaque, and skillful enough in the art of words to avoid giving out more information than was absolutely required. "Where is Captain Harry? He is the commanding officer of this mission and it is he who should answer for his actions. Why is he not here himself?"

Claris was wondering that herself. As an outlaw and a pirate for much of her adult life, she had no patience in rules and politics. As far as she was concerned, Harry should have never associated himself with the nation of Io. Harry already had a good thing going with his young but promising pirate career. Yet his need for large amounts of credits trumped all, and he sold out to the Ioans. She looked up into the eyes of Admiral Noah Turner. After a few seconds of intense staring, she already got the measure of the man. _'He's impatient and disgusted at me. Nothing I can do will change his attitude towards me or Harry.'_

Instead of lamenting that fact, she embraced it. _'Good. The more people hate Captain Harry, the sooner he learns that he doesn't belong in this world. Eventually they'll stab us in the back, and when they do, I'll finally have Harry back in my grasp._'

"What are you smiling at, woman?"

The commander smirked wider, and impudently slouched back against her seat. "I do not see why I should stay and answer more of your irrelevant questions. Everything you need to know is in my written report. I am under no obligation to give you any further answers to your questions."

"…Very well. You are dismissed."

As the beautiful officer smoothly rose to her feet, she gave him a mocking salute. "Admiral."

As her tight boots stepped away from Turner's desk, the admiral's frown grew more strained. _'Wellesley is right. These scoundrels are uncontrollable. How soon will it be when they turn their Earthtech weapons against us?'_

He looked down at the data-pad that Claris left behind. The report contained within its data crystal was a masterful piece of fiction. The weary admiral sighed as he picked it up. When he left the briefing room, he threw the useless pad in the recycler.

* * *

"Go and introduce yourself, Illana." Harry said gently to his adopted daughter. He pushed her gently forward, denying her the opportunity to hide behind his legs.

Just a few meters away from them stood another shy girl. She twirled a lock of blond hair as she looked wide-eyed at Harry's daughter.

"I'm Illana." She hesitated a little. "Nice to meet you."

Lord Terrance smiled and encouraged his own daughter to return the greeting.

"Annabelle." The other little girl burped as she fidgeted around.

"Why don't you two go play for a while?" Terrance suggested, and dropped a cyberball between the two. The shiny, blinking toy quickly attracted the children's interests, and soon they were chasing it and throwing it around in the confines of the private park in Antares Station. The sound of blissful giggles warmed Harry's heart as he followed Terrance to a table where their wives were preparing a picnic.

"It's good for our daughters to play with each other. Cousins within our own family are much easier to deal with than the children of vassal houses. It always brings a measure of tension when they grow up and start chasing their ambitions."

"Luckily we have a lot of years ahead of us before Annabelle and Illana worry about that." Harry responded, knowing that as an adopted child, Illana would never have the same status in the House as a 'real' Antares. Even now, after all the battles he had fought for his House, they still treated him like a pariah.

Over by the other side of the table, Lady Victoria tutted her lips. "Family should never try to sell each other out. Awful business, that. Don't you agree, Amande?"

"We don't live in a universe where we can remain complacent." Lady Amande replied calmly as she laid out the sandwiches. "Political maneuvering is necessary to maintain peace and unity."

As much as Harry wanted to disagree, he was far too jaded to hope that humanity could change. Human society was complex, driven by billions of people all chasing after power and wealth. People were never satisfied with what they had now, and always wanted more. As long as human nature remained as greedy and unscrupulous as it was now, a Utopia where everyone lived side by side in peace was a pipedream.

"So how's the war going on?" Harry asked, changing the subject to something more in line with his interests. While Lord Terrance mainly dealt with trade and commerce, his high status within the House gave him quite a bit of access to the more inner workings of the Ioan state. That was one of the reasons why Harry agreed to accompany Amande to this otherwise frivolous social occasion during a time of difficulty and war.

"It is.. quiet." The older man pursed, and crossed his arms in contemplation. "None of the Jovian nations have prepared for a war on this scale, so it is taking us all time to mobilize our forces. Warships that we've mothballed in times of relative peace take time and energy to be put back online and up to standard. Reserves are being called in, but it takes a large effort to train them into effective spacers. Tell me, between spaceships and soldiers, which do we lack the most?"

That was an easy question. "Soldiers of course. Warships are cheap and the supply is plentiful."

"Indeed. Mass production and modular production allows any nation to field and replenish escorts relatively quickly. Capital ships are another matter, but they do not appear often in a battlefield. Compared to the production of warships, the training of loyal and competent personnel is an intensive and time-consuming effort. And it is not as if you can just pull civilians and reservists from their old lives without any consequences. It will take a year, maybe even more to shift our consumer-centric economy into a war economy. Depending on the gravity of the conflict, the people at the home front may come to enjoy less liberties and luxuries."

As a participant in a society-ending conflict, Harry could imagine how Io needed to sacrifice much in order to attain victory. In his hundred-year long war against the Wizarding World, the fudgy old bureaucrats were too pompous to think that a single wizard could topple their entire society. Like the Dursleys, they plodded on as if nothing was wrong and tried to maintain the illusion of normalcy as long as they could.

"Is Io prepared for this war?"

"Truthfully, no." The nobleman replied as he turned his attention to their kids, who were blissfully playing around as if nothing was amiss. "Then again, none of the other Jovian powers expected the cold war between us to heat up, so we are all equal in that regard. And even if we were more prepared than Callisto and Ganymede, it wouldn't have made much of a difference, as the war theater is simply too massive for any single navy to dominate."

That explained why the Ioan Navy was essentially pussy-footing around. Having no direct access to Admiral Wellesley or the rest of the brass, Harry had no insight in their grand strategy. So far, all of the powers were content with sending light patrols consisting mainly of frigates and destroyers against each other, probing their lines and their mining colonies for weaknesses. Despite Harry's spectacular assault against Callisto, the subsequent engagements reported in the news feeds were all low-intensity affairs that was barely any better than before. It was hardly anything for a lone cruiser like the _Immortal Marauder_ to excel.

"So when will the real war begin?"

"That is very difficult to predict." Terrance replied tersely as he saw the women finish their preparations. "Ah, let us eat first."

"Annabelle! Illana! Lunch is ready!"

The two girls skipped to the table and lifted their small bodies up to the bench and the raised pillows placed on top. Both women had cut their daughters' portions into smaller pieces, which they fed to them by hand. The intimate love that poured from that scene melted Harry's heart.

"I'm relieved."

"How so?" Harry replied to Terrance, a bit startled by the unexpected question.

"I can see in your eyes that you truly love your new daughter."

'_Is this love? Real love?'_ Harry wondered, trying to make sense of the bubbling feeling of joy that roiled inside his stomach. He had been deprived of affection for so long that he wasn't really sure whether he could recognize the sensation anymore. The way he looked at Illana was different from the way he looked at Selner.

"I'm not sure what the story is with her, but I'm glad she's in the right hands. Amande and you will do right by her."

Harry nodded in between his chews. While he felt slightly offended that Terrance took issue over his ability to care for Illana, he recognized that Lord Terrance was only being a concerned parent.

The thirdborn of the current Dictat in power turned serious then. "You might not have noticed it so far, but you're under a lot of pressure, captain. As the antithesis of pacifist ambitions, a significant portion of our society opposes you. I've done my best to shield you from the rest of the House, and Amande has supplemented my efforts brilliantly, but the fact remains that you are not welcome in Io at the moment."

That made Harry lose his appetite. He set down his sandwich and turned to his older companion. "I can't bloody well leave, you know. The _Immortal Marauder_ needs at least two months of overhaul and repair."

"I'm aware of your current predicament. I've discussed it with Anastasia, and she agreed to pull some strings."

"Oh?" Harry let out, trying to hide his sudden apprehension. The fact that Terrance went behind his back and talked to the Prime Minister about arranging favors did not sit well with him. He wasn't quite sure yet if Lady Anastasia was an ally or an enemy to him. "And what did your sister come up with?"

Evidently prepared for the question, Terrance wiped a hand with a napkin and retrieved a small datacube from his vacsuit pocket. "The details are contained within. Be aware that the content within is sensitive."

"I'll be discreet." The boy said, and silently pocketed the cube.

"Daddy!" Illana chirped happily once she saw that her father was done with his business. "I wanna play with Anna again! Can I visit her?"

Glad that Illana was already making friends despite her 'unusual' condition, Harry gladly relented. "Sure, but only when mom will take you. I don't want you running around on your own. You're a bit too young for that."

Illana giggled when Harry imagined caressing her head. "Sure daddy!"

While there were certainly risks involved with letting the girl out of his sight, he hoped Amande would have enough sense to keep her out of trouble. The way she effortlessly glided through everyone's mental barriers was quite disturbing. The only reason why Harry didn't worry about it too much was that no one would believe a kid like Illana to be able to read minds, and even if she happened to blurt something out every once in a while, people would just regard her as a cute kid with a big mouth. Harry knew that this relative freedom couldn't last forever. Eventually, Illana would learn what all the big words that adults like him used every day, and find out that not everyone was as benevolent as they seemed.

'_I wonder what she will think of me then. Will she recognize me for the monster that I am, or will she become so accustomed to my darkest thoughts that she won't see anything wrong with them?'_

That was another reason to moderate his exposure to Illana. She needed to be around with more normal people like Amande and Annabelle.

* * *

Selner pursed her lips, looking rather dissatisfied at the scene before her. After a few pointed inquiries, she finally found the makeshift holding cell built in a secret part of the Firestorm Solutions headquarters next to the repair yard. Professor's Zhang had finally succumbed to the madness that pervaded from Harry's darkness. To stage a small invasion at the West-Jovian University of Technology and kill off most of the academics serving there was beyond madness.

Yet… she had suffered too much to feel indignant about it. As a fellow researcher onboard the ill-fated _Helical Visage_, she too suspected foul play when pirates managed to ambush their defenseless research vessel. _'Still.. it's probably the action of a single jealous rival. Killing off almost the entire senior staff was excessive.'_

Harry and the rest of his unhinged crew had sown so much needless bloodshed in her absence. If this went on, the entire solar system might become engulfed in a downward spiral of misery and death. That was absolutely unacceptable. Selner found it surprising that no one else, not even Professor Zhang was able to take a step back and see the bigger picture. Didn't anyone in Harry's employ realize how their obsessions and lack of restraint blinded them to the disruption they caused in wider society?

'_Of course not. Most of the crew are either pirates, brainwashed civilians or misguided soldiers.'_

Ever since her abduction and long imprisonment at the hand of her ex-husband, Selner felt she became a different person. No longer could she sustain her naïve optimism of before, not when she had a taste of the torment Harry must have endured a thousand-fold. She regretted her loss of innocence, and her exposure to the depths of cruelty a man could reach.

Still, her ordeal hadn't jaded her to the point of losing her will to do her best to change things for the better. Right now, the five scientists languishing in the cell was one thing where her intervention might be helpful.

"Sergeant Castia, would you please lower the privacy screen? I wish to speak to the prisoners."

The redhead sergeant currently on regular guard duty looked at Selner with a measure of hesitation.

"Is there something wrong?" The doctor asked needlessly. She was already aware of Castia's conflicting thoughts. As a civilian doctor, even appointed as the ship's medical officer, she was technically out of the chain of command. Therefore her orders didn't carry any formal weight. Castia wasn't under any obligation to follow her commands. In fact, doing so might violate other protocols. That didn't deter Selner in the slightest way, though, and she continued to level her gaze upon the marine.

After a few seconds of dithering, Castia finally relented. She turned her head and inputted a series of short commands on her control panel. The The one-way screen that separated the prisoners from freedom faded into full transparency, letting the captives see outside the narrow confines of their abode.

"Huh.. you.. you're not Dr. Zhang.." A weary and bedraggled man said. "Have you come to free us?"

"Not quite."

Her words cut like a hot knife on butter. The faint signs of hope that swelled in their eyes instantly shuttered out. "Oh."

While Selner wanted to avoid a regrettable outcome, the fact of the matter was she could do little without jeopardizing Harry's operation. These scientists have already seen too much. "I hear you have been obstinate in cooperating with my colleague."

"He's gone crazy. He's a murderer."

Once, that might have affected her attitude towards the elder Asian. But after all she went through, it hardly fazed her anymore. "He is your only means for survival. We can't let you linger in this cell for eternity. Decide quickly, or else you might get disposed."

After issuing her ominous warning, she ordered Castia to put the privacy screens back up before leaving the cell. Talking to those prisoners gave her an uneasy feeling, but it had to be done. _'Zhang has become too obsessed with magic. It's clouding his judgment and impairs his ability to convince those prisoners to join his research team.'_

Instead of forcibly kidnapping researchers, he should have just floated around some ads. There were plenty of talented graduates with degrees floating around in the job market these days. She strode back to the main building of the headquarters and took the elevator to her office. Now that the ship was starting to undergo extensive refit, she had nowhere else to work from except for the private clinic, where Dr. Scranton currently fulfilled his shift. Once she carefully closed the doors and activated her privacy module she bought out of her own funds, the doctor finally eased her shoulders and relaxed in her comfy office chair.

"Dr. Rodgrigez, thanks for telling me where the prisoners were held."

"It was no trouble, and please call me Arnaud." The ghost responded as he shifted out of invisibility until he merely appeared transparent. He looked quite pleased at himself. "I'm getting more adept at this form."

'_Is there such a thing as becoming a better ghost?'_ Selner absently mused, but quickly gave up that inquiry due to the sheer complexity involved with the concept._ 'Let Zhang worry about those details.'_

"I take it you've been tailing Admiral Wellesley for a few days now. Have you found out anything important yet?"

Arnaud's face turned stoic, and crossed his arms. His form flitted left and right and he pondered over his observations. "Wellesley has become more concerned about the potential threat Captain Harry poses to Io, or more precisely his House and his cozy position. While much of the Ioan civilian and military elite believes Harry to be Terran agent, they are still divided on how they should respond. The military, oddly enough, think that they are inviting disaster by letting Harry run amok, and they're proposing aggressive solutions, such as confiscating Harry's property to assassination."

"Odd." The woman commented. "Why aren't the civilians following along?"

"The answer to that is.. complex, Selner. Some believe they can forge a closer relationship with Terra if they keep befriending Harry. As Earth has propagated complete isolation for more than a century, any kind of relationship with our ancestral planet, be it diplomatic or trade, is very much sought after."

"I don't imagine everyone believes Harry's is an official Terran agent."

"Correct. Considering his.. erratic behavior, the majority are inclined that Harry is a rogue element and does not represent a Terran megacorp in any capacity."

Tapping her heels, Selner sighed. "So what is their stance on our dear captain?"

"They are greedy, as ever. They know it's not a good idea to take Harry's wondrous 'technology' by force, so they intend to maintain a cautious bond with Harry in order to increase trust."

"It won't work, of course. Harry will never let someone else gain access to his toys, and it will be awkward trying to explain how his devices can achieve impossible results with mundane materials. It's best that his magical products remain under wraps."

"That might not be possible."

"How so?"

The ghost stopped jittering around and instead settled on a midair sitting posture. "Admiral Wellesley has run out of patience. In defiance of his sister's express instructions, he is preparing a detachment of the Whirlwind Guards to storm our shipyard and this building. He's been preparing for this attack for months. And there's something else that is even more disturbing. All of the soldiers are training with nEMP weapons."

Selner was stunned speechless. _'What? How did they know of our weakness?' _Even as she tried to find an explanation, she knew deep in her heart that someone from Harry's employ had betrayed them. There was no other explanation.

"Who?"

"You won't like my answer."

"Tell me who, Mercury damn it!"

"The one who is leaking information to Wellesley is.. Captain Rysa."

'_Damnit! I knew she was trouble! Once a pirate, always a pirate.'_ Selner cursed. She could easily imagine why Rysa would betray Harry, despite all the pain her Mark must be giving her for attempting such. Harry's actions against the Ioan diplomatic convoy a year ago caused their cooperative pirate raid to go disastrously wrong, killing off their fellow captains while causing the _Arbalest_, Rysa's old ship, to be destroyed with all hands lost. In such a horrible situation, it was only natural that the bitter woman would try to rebel against someone she saw as an impudent young adult.

"It will be hard to get rid of her." Selner mused, not even blinking at the thought of murdering a fellow comrade. "Captain Rysa is the current CEO of Firestorm Solutions. Her removal might cause alarm, both from Harry and the Ioans."

Arnaud, resigned to the fate that Rysa had brought upon herself, brought up the most important issue. "It will not change that Wellesley is preparing to attack our facilities in the near future. Perhaps we should warn Captain Harry and—"

"No! That is out of the question!" The female doctor snapped. "That would be a monumental catastrophe with his temper. We should try to keep this under wraps as long as possible and try to deal with the situation quietly."

Neither of them had a solution at hand, however. Seeing no other possibility, Selner composed a short missive on her terminal and sent it to a handful of confidants. "I don't see any way out of this predicament, but perhaps Lady Amande or Star might have some ideas."

"Are you sure you want to involve Lady Amande?"

"It's risky, but her career will end if Harry is done for. With her extensive contacts, she might come up with a political solution. Anything is better than involving Claris, or Harry."

The entire matter needed to be dealt with quietly and delicately in order to avoid upsetting the current peaceful relationship between Harry and Io. So far, with Firestorm Solutions' meteoric rise and the adoption of Illana, Selner noticed that the previously erratic captain began to mellow out. Even now, Harry spent most of his time supervising his growing business empire and accompanying Amande on her social visits. Whatever free time he had left he lavished it on his adopted daughter. With that much work on his plate, he hardly had any time to worry about repairing his warship or creating even more destructive weaponry.

He also stopped fucking Selner and Star silly, which suited her fine, since she earned enough of a status within Harry's crew to act independently. _'It'll probably be too much to hope that Harry extinguished his carnal desires entirely. Hopefully Amande will get over her prudishness.'_

* * *

Captain Gloria munched on an apple as she keenly observed the digital plot projected before her captain's chair. Her bridge officers – all highly trained and handpicked by herself – manned the bridge of the _Mirrored Abyss_ with quiet professionalism and pride. The gorgeous captain crossed her long and firm legs as she saw the other squadron elements drift into place.

"Lieutenant Berkely," She started, still chewing the remaining pieces of her bite. "Have all the captains reported in?"

"Aye, ma'm. All fifteen corvettes are ready to swarm, and the three mobile carriers are just finishing their launch preparations."

"Good. I don't want this attack to go as chaotic as the last time." The thought of that confusing melee where she led a giant swarm of corvettes against a Brewersfield fleet disgusted Gloria. With proper discipline and obedience, she could have won that battle with only ten percent of the losses she actually sustained. Now, assigned to lead a squadron of ships captained by officers of the Callistoan Maffia, she could finally prove her mettle.

Soon enough, every single vessel had finished their preparations. "Ma'm, we're ready to begin the operation. Just say the word."

A feral grin formed on Gloria's face. After months of laying low due to the outbreak of the war, Admiral Black finally let her out of the cage. After her rather forceful initiation in his ranks, she had dutifully trained his ramshackle pirate fleet into something more formidable, with rather mixed results. While many of Black's cadre were former officers in the Callistoan Navy, most of the pirates were drunkards and scoundrels. Just getting them to respect her as a Captain and not a walking pair of tits and ass was an ordeal in itself. _'It took a dozen castrations before the message finally settled into their thick skulls.'_

It was too much to hope that the crews under her training could sustain their acceptable performance now that they were dispersed to other commands. One of the worst habits of pirates was that they were lazy. Without the constant drills that the conducted on her own ship, valuable skills and experience quickly atrophied. Hopefully, the squadron that remained under her command was sufficiently prepared enough to handle the challenges that she was about to face head-on.

"Lieutenant Berkely, commence the operation in sixty standard seconds. Initiate the countdown on all vessels."

"Transmitting countdown orders now, ma'm."

As the clock ticked down, Gloria finished her apple and wiped her hands and lips. She even took the time to call up a mirror and check if her appearance was amiss. _'I need to look perfect for what I'm about to do. I don't want my face to be plastered all over the solar system with a chunk of apple on my cheek.'_

"Ten seconds remaining!"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Commencing the operation!"

Instantly, a couple of small but still formidable asteroids deep within the Jupiter Outback began to stir. Buried modules planted only a couple of years after the formation of Mining Base Absolon shook off their dormancy and activated the boost, propelling the large rocks forwards in a sluggish but stubborn advance.

To the mining base's credit, their manned weapon platforms quickly realized the threat and started pouring anti-asteroid fire at the approaching threats. However, there were too many asteroids for their railguns to take out quickly. Even as massive chunks of rocks and minerals flung away, the rocks hovered dangerously near before all of them were sufficiently broken up. Smaller chunks that still threatened the base were subsequently vaporized by batteries of beam lasers.

By then, it was too late. The pirate ships hiding behind the great bulk of the asteroids emerged from their cold sleep and started to boost through the maze of spinning debris. The agile corvettes danced nimbly through the chaotic path and aligned themselves for an attack run against the base.

The _Mirrored Abyss_ followed not too far behind. Due to her relative bulk, the flagship of the pirate flotilla held position to the rear of the formation and instead began to bombard the mining base with her powerful Class VIII railguns. Her twin-barreled turrets let loose with accurate volleys at an extended range. Since the mining base was a stationary target, the _Abyss_ was able to bombard the Absolon at a range far greater than a mobile target, since any movement would have thrown off her aim.

That didn't mean it was easy to whittle down the mining base's hardened defenses. Absolon's heavy Class IX railguns slowly turned to face the _Abyss_, and fired powerful slugs of solid matter at the pirate destroyer. Captain Gloria instantly ordered her vessel to accelerate and move in a random evasion pattern. While it slightly threw off the aim of her own armaments, it prevented the defenders from accomplishing a single hit.

"The corvettes are beginning their bombardment, ma'm."

Gloria grinned even wider as she saw the other corvettes had finished closing in. While several ships had been withered by deathly beam laser emplacements, most of those mounts had spent much of their initial heat capacity on destroying asteroid chunks. Their subsequent fire on the corvettes had been significantly lighter as the defenders were forced to wait until more heat was shunted away before they could fire another volley. So far only three corvettes had bitten the dust, leaving plenty more to let loose their heavy bombs.

A storm of point-defense fire exploded from the base, but there were simply too many bombs coming from too many directions. Plenty of bombs had made it through, and they exploded in spectacular fashion, crumpling, melting and annihilating the base's weapon hardpoints.

"Six out of seven railgun batteries are offline! Thirty-three percent of their beam laser batteries are offline! Point-defense integrity is still up at 86%, but falling!"

"Advance!"

Now that most of the heavy guns were taken care of, the _Mirrored Abyss_ plunged forward, heedless of the intercepting fire of the remaining intact railgun battery. The swarming corvettes quickly took care of it with their varied armament of pulsers and smaller railguns before methodically sweeping up the remaining weapon batteries.

At this point, the battle had been decided. Knowing their fate if they should fall into pirate hands, the inhabitants of the base escaped the doomed outpost en masse in flimsy escape pods that rocketed out of the smoldering asteroid.

"Captain, incoming transmission. Should we accept?" Berkely asked.

"Do so."

The main screen projected the chaotic scene of Absolon's command center. Over half of the consoles were already abandoned, but a few stubborn operators were still directing their remaining and probably futile anti-boarding efforts. The base commander looked at Captain Gloria with scandalized disgust.

"I offer our surrender if you treat us with dignity according to intersolar law." The commander said dejectedly and without even bothering to introduce himself. He knew very well that the pirates never accepted surrender, or if they did, they always enslaved those they captured and sold them on to gruesome fates.

Gloria wiped her sadistic grin off her face just before the transmission started, and settled for a modest but satisfied smirk. "I accept your terms of surrender."

"...Say what?"

The base commander was genuinely floored. Did the pirate captain just agreed to treat them fairly?

"I said, I will accept your surrender, and treat you and your men as prisoners of war. Deactivate your defenses and shut down any other systems except life-support. Lay down your weapons and gather them up in a pile in your hangar bay. Line up all your men there and do not offer any resistance to my boarding parties when they come to restrain you all. If you abide by my instructions, I will promise you that no harm will befall you and those under your command."

"Is this a joke? Are you mocking us?"

"Mocking you is the furthest thing from my mind. I am absolutely serious. Please record this transmission and send them to your masters back at Io. Make sure they send it along to Europa as well." Gloria waited a few seconds even though she knew that the commander was already streaming everything that happened back to their home moon.

"We are streaming the images live to our corporate headquarters and the navy."

The captain nodded, and even though she wanted to check up her appearance and adjust her hair, she refrained from doing so, knowing that this needed to go absolutely perfectly. "Citizens of Io and Europa. For years you have let the dregs of your society fester at the edges of your territory. You have always claimed a vast amount of territory of Jupiter's immense asteroid belt, but never have you spent any effort enforcing your reign in these regions. No more! As of this day, the independent Nation of Jovia under Admiral Black declares sovereignty over the entirety of the Jupiter Outback!"

"This.. this is a farce!" The stunned base commander stammered out. "Pirates can't declare sovereignty! No one will recognize you!"

"You are incorrect, commander." Gloria smoothly replied, and her smirk grew more confident. "As of this day, The Nations of Callisto and Ganymede officially recognize the Nation of Jovia as a sovereign entity with the full powers to form armies, declare war, levy taxes, and engage in diplomatic relations. Furthermore, the Nation of Jovia declares that she has already entered into an official alliance with the Nation of Callisto and Ganymede, and that these two allies unanimously recognize the borders that the Nation of Jovia claims for herself. Lastly, obliging to the terms of this alliance, the Nation of Jovia now officially declares war against the Nation of Europa and the Nation of Io."

The entire command center sat shocked at Gloria's announcement. The victorious captain continued to sit still and refrained from making any movement. This was her moment now. She had no doubt that this declaration would be transmitted to the entire region of Jupiter by the end of this day.

This was her moment, and the start of a new and unexpected development in the War for Jupiter. Europe and Io, previously confident that they held all the advantages, now had to contend with a third party that might tip the balance against their favor.

The utterly defeated commander slumped his shoulders. "I.. accept your terms, and surrender my command to your care."

The transmission ended, allowing Gloria to show her actual feelings. She immediately felt like celebrating, so she uncrossed her legs and opened them wide.

"Lieutenant Berkely."

"Yes, captain?"

Gloria pointed down to her crotch. "Go down on me."

"Aye aye, ma'm."

As her closest subordinate went down and dirty on Gloria, the dark-haired captain reflected on the storm she likely caused. It was so incredibly fun to muck up Europe and Io's best-laid plans. While she didn't really agree with Admiral Black's ultimate goals, she nevertheless looked forward to all the chaos and battle. Her bloodlust was great, and only war could fill her appetite.

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	54. II: Smoldering Flames

February 10, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: I like to consider my fanfiction writing bouts as one of those so-called 'free-to-play' Facebook games. In them, you can do anything you want, until you run out of energy. Then you have to wait for the energy resource to regenerate in order to do anything more. Unlike many other writers, I do not write chapters once-in-a-while. Instead, I wait patiently until I have gathered as much creative energy that I can possibly contain until expending them in one large writing marathon. I think I've reached that point now.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Smoldering Flames_

* * *

The news of the pirates declaring sovereignty slammed like a hammer blow to the Io-Europa alliance. Of all the possible scenarios that they envisioned, none of them really spared a thought for the criminal scum that inhabited the darker corners of Jupiter's massive orbit. Sure, combined, their numbers were quite fearsome and could in fact rival any single Jovian power. While their lack of heavy ship classes ruled out assaults against fortified positions, their vast swarm of corvettes gave them an advantage in small-scale engagements and raids against disparate asteroid colonies. Suddenly, the paradigm that Io and Europe relied on to carry them forth to victory turned invalid.

Since Harry still had frosty relations with the Ioan Navy, he turned to Star instead for an analysis of the implications this unexpected turn of events might produce. _'I haven't been here for a while.'_ He mused as he returned to the Firestorm Solutions headquarters.

Last he heard, his technicians already removed most of the damaged plating and were just days away from the crucial step of exposing the keel in order to perform highly sensitive repairs. During the raid of Callisto, his ship sustained several battleship-grade railgun rounds. While his magical protections held up enough to allow the _Marauder_ to escape, the damage penetrated deeply enough to reach the spine. Since the keel was an important part of the structural integrity of his ship, it needed to be inspected for cracks or bends and see if it needed repair. While that was ordinarily a prohibitively expensive operation, with the house elves' magic such a process was as easy as waving a hand.

"Sir."

The secretary recognized his face, and Harry nodded silently as he stepped in the elevator. After a few minutes he reached the top floor and headed to his office.

The space was bland and metallic, much like the rest of the nascent construction. No one bothered to decorate the Spartan office, though he at least had access to a plushy couch. Harry immediately zeroed in on the mundane furniture and sank himself in its fluffy depths.

Several minutes passed as Harry considered buying few paintings to spruce up his office space, then discarded it as he didn't plan to spend a lot of time here. Running a business, even one as promising as Firestorm, was not his cup of tea. He couldn't imagine himself in a business vacsuit, going to work from 9 to 5 (or whatever work hours the Ioans followed these days) then go home to his apartment to spend the evening with his family. No, he couldn't ever go back to normal. War was so ingrained within his identity that he didn't want to turn his back to a conflict.

"Sorry I'm late, sir." Star announced as she hurried inside the spacious but barren office. She looked immaculate, as usual, and she bowed to Harry in obedient reverence. "I had an emergency meeting with Selner, and it stretched a bit longer than I thought."

"No matter. Please, have a sit."

It wasn't necessary for the boy to tell his pet to sit beside him, instead of taking the opposite couch. After regaining some of her composure, Star swayed over to Harry's side with a subtle – and sensual – saunter. She wasn't being too obvious about it, giving Harry a choice on whether he wanted to fool around a bit.

Just seeing his gorgeous blond thrall after several days of separation was enough to stir his desires again. _'God I missed this.'_ Harry thought as he pulled Star abruptly onto his lap. His previously dormant girth instantly swelled against Star's firm skintight rear.

The woman, to her credit, adjusted quickly, and began to grind her lower body against her master. "Quite touchy, are you?"

As much as Harry wanted to tear away Star's clothes, he learned enough from Selner to value the sense of anticipation. He merely kept his hands on her hips while keeping the rest of his body relaxed. "I didn't call you all the way here for a quickie. I wanted to meet you in order to hear your take on what had just happened and what it means to my plans. You offered to give me advice, so let's hear it, pet."

Harry emphasized his words with a firm slap to her rear, causing her to moan in surprise.

"Certaintly, sir. The pirates upheaved the political environment with their stunt. What's immediately clear though is that this so-called 'Jovia' is a joke, and practically every power in the solar system knows it. Without any recognition from any foreign power, and by that I mean either Earth or Mars, any newly independent body stands on shaky international grounds. There have been plenty of colonies in the past which declared independence, and aside from notable uprisings such as Jupiter's liberation from Earth, those independent states are usually subdued within a decade due to lack of military strength. You have to realize that all of the established nations are quite predatory."

"It's different with Jovia, isn't it?" Harry observed as he started to slide his groping hands to his slave's slim stomach. "It's not just an asteroid colony or space station breaking up, it's the bulk of pirate activity in a region where hundreds of Earths can't even fill up."

"No matter how many pirate vessels Jovia has at its disposal, the country can't hope to enforce its laws in the entire Jupiter Outback. To that extent, it's just a bluff, an exaggeration. Still, the majority of Io and Europe's asteroid bases and outposts fall within the specific areas of interest that Jovia has pointed out. If Admiral Black is truly able to unite most of the pirates under his command, he stands a good chance cutting the two Jovian nations from vital resources. Getting cut off from the handful of asteroids that provide rare and valuable extrasolar materials will be the biggest blow to the economies. In the medium to long term, that absence will give them a decisive disadvantage in the war."

"How so? Our side can still mine plenty of materials from the moon itself."

"Extrasolar materials are what powers state of the art technology. The more mundane elements and ores that were formed during our solar system's formation billions of years ago have their limits. Militarily, it means that Callisto and Ganymede can keep producing new capital ships, while our side has to contend with cruisers."

Now Harry got it. He would never forget how close his ship escaped annihilation at the hand of those powerful Class X railguns. "I see. Those disproportionately powerful battleships are necessary in taking over major objectives and assaulting the inner perimeter of the moons themselves. So if the pirates gain control over the Jupiter Outback, Io and Europe will lose the war over lack of resources."

"That sums up the situation in a nutshell. Callisto and Ganymede won't sit on their thumbs either, and will try to assault the major outposts, further putting pressure on our forces. I can't see a way for Io and Europa to win at this point."

That was bad. The disappointing news halted Harry's further advances, and Star paused in her ministrations at the lack of response. "Sir?"

"Damnit. I'm too tied up with the House of Antares to switch sides or run away. I need more influence in order to take on the Bones line who are currently doing Merlin knows what with my stolen magic."

"I understand your frustration, Harry, but there is really no easy solution."

"Can't you do something? Anything? Maybe you can contact your buddies over in Mars to intervene."

Star shook her head at the silly suggestion. "You overestimate my former benefactors. They don't have nearly enough influence in Martian politics to steer them into war, and besides, it is an extremely bad idea for them to involve themselves in a Jovian conflict. Jupiter is the only known source of extrasolar materials. If Mars somehow gains a foothold here, Earth will be alarmed, and find themselves obliged to follow. Neither of the two nations have any interest in another Terran-Martian War."

So he couldn't rely on any outside force either. Harry ground his teeth as he cursed his lack of influence. He planned to just sit back and slowly build up his reputation in order to obtain a promotion, yet that wasn't enough now. He needed to fight his enemies hard in order to survive. The wizard already began to reconsider some of his plans. More drastic measures were required.

Even as he resumed his explorations of Star's flawless body, his thoughts slowly drifted over to the secret proposal he received from Lord Terrance the other day. The offer had come directly from Lady Anastasia. While he was fairly suspicious about the intentions of the second-most powerful member of the House of Antares, it did provide him with an opportunity to gain power quickly, though at considerable risk. _'I don't want to dance to her tune, but I don't see any other opportunity. The Maddie, as powerful as she appears, is but one ship among many.'_

He needed to go on the offensive.

With that thought, he stood up, gently pushing his nubile pet away from his body.

"C-Captain?"

"I'm tired being a victim of my circumstances." The boy said curtly as he stood up despite the awkward feeling in his pants. "Follow me. There's something you need to see."

Harry strode out of his office with his pet in tow and entered an elevator. Instead of taking any of the regular floors displayed on the panel, he inserted a hidden code which prompted the console to scan him thoroughly. After he passed all of the security checks, he pressed a new button that brought him to a hidden floor.

"Harry?"

"Just you wait. You'll see what I've been cooking up to now."

While the elevator's gravitic modules made the ride effortless, Star could nonetheless detect a minute sideways motion. _'We're not going up or down. We're traveling sideways.'_ Intrigued by the secret, the woman kept her thoughts to herself and her face composed. Designing a hidden floor had to take quite some foresight. Whatever her master had hidden there must be a potent enough secret to merit the trouble. She followed the boy dutifully as he stepped out of the elevator and went through a slew of other security checks, some of them technological, others magical. They finally ended up into an artificial cavern of light and life.

"This.. this is massive!"

"That's magical trunks for you." Harry replied as he walked up one of the many paths between rows and rows of strange, green plants. "To be honest, in the preparation of my raid to Callisto, I hadn't been able to spend as much magic as I wanted reinforcing my ship. I diverted quite a bit of magic setting up this facility."

"Was it worth it?"

"Definitely."

Receiving no elaboration, Star continued to follow Harry through the unabashedly elaborate setup. Harry evidently spared no expense into creating an optimum greenhouse. Besides state-of-the-art lighting and moisturizers, the woman detected fertilizer sprinkled with extrasolar particles and small robotic crawlers acting as pest control. The immense luxuries Harry availed himself in this operation must have cost him plenty of millions in a period where he didn't have that much slack.

They finally reached the center of the pocket dimension where a small non-descript structure hermetically sealed the interior from outside influences. After entering a double airlock where all parasites and other foreign matter were disposed, they entered a small lab where a sole occupant was hard at work.

"Professor Zhang. How's the first batch?"

"Ah, Harry, you've arrived." The Asian replied as he tinkered with an unfamiliar machine with a no-doubt obscure purpose. "I've torn out more than a few of my hairs figuring out that ancient Wizard droll. For evolved transhumans, your kind has no concept of proper dictation and note-keeping!"

Smirking, Harry picked up the old and dusty tome placed haphazardly in the middle of a bed of datapads. "Spellbooks can be a bit dry, I admit, but this fellow's not the worst in my library. You're lucky this guy's from the nineteenth century. You can't believe the gibberish the early post-Merlin wizards spew out."

"Sure." The scientist muttered, before retrieving a small beaker from the machine. With careful steps he approached the center table and placed the synthetic holder onto its surface. "I've interpreted the 'alchemical' instructions as best as possible, substituting as much hocus-pocus magic as I could. I've messed up quite a number of samples I'm afraid. In the end, I managed to carouse a couple of your so-called 'house-elves' to channel some of their magic during processing."

The waste mattered little to Harry. He had tons of plant matter to spare. "But you managed to finish it, I hope?"

"Only you can be the judge of that." Zhang said, and pushed the beaker forward.

Taking it, Harry lifted it in front of his eyes and stared at it. His normal, natural eye detected nothing but the familiar sight of Floo powder. It had been so long since he last handled Floo powder. Back in his own time, the British Floo network was keenly monitored by the Aurors, so it was perilous for an outlaw like him to travel through their domain. With his abundant magic, apparition served him well enough in his time on Earth. Now, with the loss of half of his magic and the unimaginable distances involved in space travel, he desperately needed a new mode of magical travel that didn't strain his capacity. To hold this forgotten relic of a time long past brought him a wave of possibilities.

With his artificial eye, Harry clearly sensed the potency locked within the powder. The signs were minute, but present nonetheless. A slight rise in temperature, a small haze of disturbed air, a minute decrease in humidity, everything pointed out that the Floo powder contained a wellspring of potent magic just waiting to be released. Smiling in satisfaction, the wizard put the beaker back on the table.

"It looks wonderful, just like old times. I want to try it out immediately. Do you have the chimneys ready?"

The mere mention of chimneys brought a furious scowl on the professor's face. "I don't know why you have to insist on primitive brick chimneys. It took us ages recreating an authentic oven and casting the bricks by hand. I've approximated the composition to nineteenth century custom as best as I could, but it is not identical by any means."

With the beaker in possession, the three exited the isolated laboratory and entered a stairs that led to a small, prepared room filled with observatory equipment. In the middle of the modest room sat two anachronistically looking chimneys, which were not even placed against a wall. Curiously, while one of the chimneys rested on solid ground, the other was placed on a gravitic platform that currently stood idle.

"Are you sure you want to do this test with a moving chimney?" Zhang asked a bit pensively. "If this is what I think it is, messing about with wormholes is very perilous. It's much safer to start with stationary elements before introducing variables."

"I don't have the time. I need to know whether this is possible. If I can't expand the Floo network beyond a single planet, moon or colony, it's of no use to me. I want to walk back and forth between my ship and my headquarters here in Io. I've got to be on top of everything, so ready the experiment. I'll enchant the chimneys personally and create the new Floo network."

"Very well. Please keep your magical emanations limited. I don't know what will happen if you spill out too much."

While Zhang dutifully prepared his instruments to record the upcoming event and Harry cast a slew of enchantments on the chimneys, Star patiently waited for the proceedings to finish. While the sole woman in the group was obviously out of her depth, she gathered enough of the conversation to guess what this test was about. _'So Harry is testing another means of instantaneous transportation. What makes this mode of travel different than his teleportation?'_

Her bright mind instantly figured out a couple of advantages. _'I don't see how chimneys function as a portal, but if they do, they might not require a magically empowered person to sustain.'_ That Harry was currently pouring his magic into the chimneys suggested to Star that he was frontloading the required magic. _'And that strange green powder, they must function as the fuel. Does that mean that someone like Harry isn't needed to initiate and sustain the portal?'_

It sounded too good to be true, but so was the entire existence of magic. Despite growing up in a society of hidden magicals, real 'magic' always felt.. distant to her, as if it was a fruit too forbidden for their race to eat. Yet to see Harry brazenly breaking all established laws of physics for such personal ends had broken her long-held skepticism that miracles could not be done.

"Alright, that should do it." Her captain announced, putting away his wand in an invisible pocket. After Zhang finished preparing his equipment, the boy grabbed a healthy pinch of Floo and passed it over to the professor. "Here. Your our first test subject."

"E-Excuse me?" He stammered in surprise, aghast that he was directly touching (and contaminating!) a potentially dangerous substance.

"Oh quit your yammering. Just throw the powder over the fireplace. I want to see how it reacts to a muggle."

After a few seconds of reassurance, Zhang eventually composed himself and neared the stationary fireplace with lingering apprehension.

"So I just have to throw it over the logs?"

"Just do it already, Zhang!"

As if pulling a trigger, the man hastily threw the powder over the fireplace, accomplishing… absolutely nothing.

"Is that supposed to happen?" He asked lamely to Harry.

"I would have been surprised if something did flare up." The boy replied, then handed over another pinch to Star. "Now you try."

"Me? But won't I get the same result as Zhang's?"

"Not quite. I brought you here for a purpose, Star. You're the _real_ test case here."

The smirk on Harry's face annoyed her a little but she suppressed her feelings immediately. She felt a little odd that her presence had any meaningful contribution to this experiment. Only Harry could truly channel magic. None of his erstwhile descendants – including herself – was ever able to equal the prowess of the ancient witches and wizards of old.

So when Star sprayed the green dust into the fireplace and beyond, she had not expected a bright green blaze to erupt before her disbelieving eyes. "What is this!?"

"In you go!" Harry yelled and whooped as he rudely pushed Star into the flame.

For a moment, the woman thought she would be burned in magical fire, so it came as a shock when she bumped into empty ground recently traversed by the moving fireplace.

After everyone calmed down, Harry finally spilled the beans. "The Floo network is the only means of magical travel that I could think of that relies the least on actual magic. The plants already absorb much of the magic they need from the enchanted soil they're planted on. Once you've properly harvested and processed them into Floo powder, it only needs a tiny draw of magic to trigger the Floo connection and sustain its magic."

Both of his audience looked impressed, but Zhang was particularly ecstatic. "That.. that's incredible. Can any impulse of magic trigger the Floo connection? Can a house-elf do it? Or someone holding an enchanted object?"

"I've never heard it happen. House-elves usually apparate where they need to be, and muggles can't channel their destination through the powder. Still, it looks like squibs like Star have enough inherent magic in them to operate the portal."

"What.. what is the range of the Floo network?"

That was an important question, Harry knew. If the Floo network only remained effective in a span of distance equivalent to Great Britain, it would be virtually useless in space. "I'm not sure. It was a purely British invention and nobody ever thought to expand it beyond a single landmass. I.. I think there's a price involved. Nothing is ever free, even concerning magic. We'll probably need more powder to sustain a connection further away."

"Can you estimate how much powder you need to sustain the portal for one minute at a distance of.. let's say 100 kilometers?"

"How would I know? Figure it out yourself. Right now I want you to build and place larger versions of these fireplaces in our headquarters and the _Immortal Marauder_. Make it large enough to drive through a cargo container. As long as we can supply the powder, I intend to use my Floo network to the fullest."

Everyone could see the potential in that. Zhang nodded. "I will need Star's help to test these devices. I can't activate them on my own."

Harry's satisfied smirk dipped a little at that news. "I need her assistance in many things. You know about my family tree in our computer directory, right? Use that to find my descendants among my crew. One of them is probably strong enough in latent magic to activate a Floo connection. Find all of them and report back to me who they are."

"It will take time, but I will follow your orders."

"I expect nothing less."

Harry and Star left the lab and all its society-changing secrets. Once more a relic of the past had returned from its slumber. The Floo network would not be the only innovation the race of witches and wizards introduced to the unsuspecting civilization of man.

* * *

The war against Callisto and Ganymede had taken an unfortunate turn, Lord Wellesley thought. He stood in his opulent office at the top of the Admiralty, examining the huge projection in the middle of the chamber. The giant orb of Jupiter rotated ever-presently in the middle, dwarfing everything else with its incredible majesty. Orbiting around the planet were many pinpricks, exaggerated in size in order to make them visible in the first place. The Great Four stood out the most due to their artificial glow programmed into the system. Many lesser moons floated every which way around with dimmer glows, all-but-ignored by the sole observer in the room. Yet it was the large central asteroid belt that interested Wellesley the most.

'_The Jupiter Outback. That incredibly large and incredibly sparsely populated area where all the scum of the solar system eeks out a living.'_

Well, to be fair, his own nation of Io had established several important colonies in the Outback. Every nation did in order to take advantage of the extrasolar materials that Jupiter caught in its great gravitic hunger. Without the interference of the pirates, Admiral Wellesley projected a slow but steady path towards victory. Now though, that outdated plan had been rendered completely unviable. While the pirates didn't have much concentrated firepower, their swarm of corvettes and other light ships could effectively deny the Jupiter Outback to Io and Europa, cutting his side off from those precious extrasolar materials. Like Lord Terrance, the older brother knew quite well how that would turn out in the long run. In order to gain a decisive victory in this war, he needed to control the Jupiter Outback.

That was where Captain Harry's toys came into play. His deliciously advanced technology was not meant to be hoarded by a single, immature idiot. Lady Anastasia and the other fools of her feckless administration simply could not see the dangers involved in letting that overgrown child keep all of that firepower to himself. Even now, when Io's need was at its greatest, Anastasia still advocated restraint. _''The time for waiting is long past. Captain Harry had many opportunities to hand over his technology.'_

That wasn't to say that Wellesley planned to act rashly. No. Captain Harry might be a fool, but he wasn't stupid. There was sure to be a lot of security guarding his treasures. If he wanted all of that in his possession intact, he needed to raid Firestorm Solutions while Harry was distracted and at his weakest. The fleet admiral bided his time and prepared a company of Whirlwind Guards equipped with nEMP weaponry.

An opening presented itself soon enough. Through his spies working in the offices of Firestorm Solutions, he learned that the repair workers were about to lay open the ship, making it completely inoperable in space. With the mighty cruiser helpless, Wellesley had nothing to fear except for Captain Harry himself, and he had plans for the privateer. Tomorrow, Lady Amande would visit a grand ball celebrating the retirement of a respected assembly member, and she somehow roped Harry in the social gathering. He had a crack team of his best Whirlwind Guards ready to intercept Harry's hovercar in transit and flood its interior with nEMP. Everything would fall into place, granting him possession of an unprecedented amount of cutting-edge technology. The war might as well be over by then if nothing else interfered.

The door to his office opened, and Wellesley's aid discretely stepped around the large projection and handed his superior a coded datapad.

"Hm? What is it Mr. Vanmar?" Wellesley puzzled as he decoded the security protections on the pad. He then read the contents swiftly with as much efficiency as someone of his station demanded. "What.. is the meaning of this!?"

Alarmed by Wellesley's change of mood, Lieutenant-Commander Vanmar could do little to placate the beast. "The message arrived from the Prime Minister's office with the highest priority, sir."

As Wellesley steamed in anger, Vanmar kept his silence and let his boss run through the implications on his own. It was always dangerous to interfere with Antares family politics, and the rivalry between Lady Anastasia and Lord Wellesley sat at the very top of conflicts to avoid. The aide waited patiently for the admiral to process the news and regain his poise. Unlike other, less disciplined leaders, Wellesley did not lash out nor unleash a storm of words. He simply removed all trace of uncontrolled emotions from his face and handed the pad back to his assistant, who didn't need to bother to check if the contents were deleted.

"Would you like to make an appointment with the Prime Minister, sir?"

"No… that should not be necessary. She certainly hasn't given me the courtesy to inform me of this development. Can you reschedule the daily strategy session in the evening? I have to take care of some errands."

"Certainly, sir."

Once Vanmar left the office, Wellesley deactivated the projection and went to his desk. He did not slam his fist against the surface, nor did he slide everything away. He simply brooded at this latest setback. He had been so careful keeping this operation secret. He chose only the company of Guards most loyal to him and kept their training activities as unobtrusive as possible, having introduced a rotation of nEMP training to each of the Guard companies in turn as part of a new contingency directive. For Anastasia to pick this particular company for a covert mission for the intelligence service at the cusp of his raid was beyond a coincidence. She knew. Somehow, his older sister knew. And she wasn't afraid to let it know to him in this rather blunt method.

Wellesley hadn't prepared any alternatives should he not enjoy the services of his chosen Guards. It was too dangerous to expand his plot to more than that. Even then, despite all the precautions he meticulously followed, Anastasia still found him out. He had been outplayed, for now.

Yet the game was not yet up. He did not leave any written record. The Whirlwind Guards knew nothing beyond an acute need to train in nEMP weaponry and raid urban targets. The admiral could spin a thousand possible excuses for such a need. Wellesley simply needed to rethink his options while keeping his thoughts discrete. Every room could be bugged. Everyone – Vanmar included – might be a mole. With so many forces arrayed against him, he needed to move carefully if he wanted to take out Captain Harry before his inevitable departure.

Unknown to his mortal senses, the intangible form of Arnaud glanced pitifully at the mighty admiral. The ghost shook his head and crossed his arms. He dearly wanted to give the man some sound advice and sort out his priorities. He didn't, of course. Still, he was glad that Selner succeeded in whatever she had done to persuade Lady Anastasia, though the cost might have been steep.

As a Callistoan, he did not follow Ioan politics as he should have. The current generation of Antares leaders only came into power recently when Lord Halcyon passed on the day-to-day work of governing. Lady Anastasia was a new face at the top, and not many people knew how she planned to govern. It disconcerted him that such a powerful woman expended a noticeable amount of influence on Harry's behalf, but never interacted with him directly, save for the occasion when Harry returned to Io.

'_It is probably the most prudent approach to handling my fickle master. When the likes of Dictat Leopold died in Harry's presence, you better step carefully around him.'_ Still, that irked him in some way. Having adjusted to his fate as a ghost as graciously as he could, he felt irritated when he couldn't spy on those he gained an interest. It was important to keep an eye on Wellesley, naturally, but the man was just so damned stiff. The Antares scion had no private life to speak of, and spent virtually his entire time coordinating the war effort. As the highest ranking military official of Io, he was a dedicated leader. But he revealed no openings even in his most private moments. A woman like Lady Anastasia certainly led a more colorful life, one he was eager to snoop.

'_Now I sound like a voyeur.'_ Arnaud thought absently, and then flicked it away. As a specter, it was pointless to dwell his thoughts on carnal pleasures.

* * *

**End Notes:** Lots of things happened since I last updated. Some university stuff. Some money stuff. Oh, and I finally replaced my ancient HTC Desire smartphone with the humongous 5.5" Samsung Galaxy Note II. The sheer size of this beast is AWESOME, and I can read all the fanfics and ebooks as I want without squinting my eyes. The extra memory and speed is also helpful with games, though the current offering in the store is disappointing.

Another thing that happened is that I _tried_ to make a many-part video guide on writing fanfiction and upload it to YouTube. After encountering a lot of authors more stupid than me on this site, I think it can be a meaningful contribution. I'm not the most qualified teacher, of course, but that won't stop me. Through interacting with the occasional beta reader, I've discovered that I enjoy teaching them the more obscure nuances of writing fanfiction. I'm quite taken by the idea of doing videos instead of boring articles and I know that even a crappy author like me has something worthwhile to teach. I certainly have fun making the videos where I record my desktop while giving an explanation, but my diction and fluency leaves something to be desired. You can hear the stammers, pauses, breathing noises and etc., and my voice isn't the smoothest in the world either. I suppose I can edit it all away but I'm too lazy to do all of that. For now, the only way for me to overcome this problem is through practice, practice, practice. I'm not going to make it very far that way.


	55. II: A Step Up

February 12, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_A Step Up_

* * *

As critical repair work took place on the helpless _Immortal Marauder_, the war deteriorated. The disparity in numbers caused the Ioan and Europan forces to lose ground, slowly forcing them to give away valuable outpost supplying critical extrasolar materials. Trade could partially compensate for the shortfall, but that alternative only grew more expensive in time.

One important event happened during this time. Captain Rysa was found dead in her bed at the apartment complex dedicated to housing Firestorm Solutions employees. Since plenty of people knew she kept her body in shape, the circumstances sounded awfully suspicious. Harry let his doctors perform an autopsy, who found nothing suspicious except for the fact that she died of a heart attack. For several weeks after the death, Harry tightened his security, and quietly added more precautions to ward against poisoning, assassinations and sabotage.

A major inconvenience to Rysa's unfortunate death was that Harry had no competent replacement at hand to become the next CEO of Firestorm Solutions. The young and ambitious Terry, who currently acted as the Chief Financial Officer, certainly angled for the job, but Harry wanted a more trusted hand at the job. He eventually wheedled his wife to take on the job. At first, she protested the burden.

"I'm far too young to lead a corporation! Find some other lackey of yours to take on the job. Your 'pet' Star is probably more than qualified for the post."

Amande had a point, but Harry needed Star by his side to dispense advice and offer intimate services. Besides, the boy did not want his overly independent wife to do thing willy-nilly without regard of his own wishes. By shackling her more closely to Firestorm Solutions, he hoped he could reign in her spendthrift ways and teach her actual responsibility. "Amande, you're taking the job and that's it. We're partners, remember? I want you to hold down the fort in Io while I go win the war for you guys."

"I don't have the time!" She whined, trying to puff out her big doe-like eyes at him, begging for a reprieve.

It only made her look more child-like in his perspective. He stomped his foot on this issue. "You need to get an actual job for a change! Besides, all you're doing is cozying up to the wealthy elite. You can impress them even more if you hold the title of CEO."

That shut her up quickly, Harry thought. Once Amande got around to the idea of presenting herself as a powerful businesswoman instead of a spoiled princess, she accepted the job and vowed to delegate as much tasks as possible to her management team in order to spend more time in 'building alliances' and establishing 'mutually beneficial relationships with key stakeholders'.

'_As long as she doesn't bankrupt my business, she can go do anything she wants.'_

Throughout the grapevine, Harry somehow learned that Admiral Wellesley planned a bold offensive to take back lost ground and smash the enemy's advance. The logic was simple. With Callisto still bruised and battered, they had a limited window of opportunity to thrust into enemy territory and encounter relatively limited amounts of resistance. The only question was where Wellesley planned to attack, as the territories belonging to Callisto, Ganymede and the pirate faction of Jovia were located at different sectors of the Jupiter Outback.

"Daddy!" Illana squealed as she hurled her tiny body onto Harry's lap, giving him an enthusiastic hug. Her bright smile wiped away all the concerns he had for the war. "I went shopping today! Look! Look!"

Curious, Harry took the sophisticated doll. It appeared to be a cute shark of some sort. He squeezed the soft toy, causing it to open its harmless jaw. _"Hello kid! EduShark here will teach you how to count to ten, or else! Throw me into the air in order to start your first lesson!"_

He threw it into the air as instructed, and the shark's internal gravitic engines started to boot up, causing it to 'swim' in the air like a miniature predator. With rubber teeth. While Illana laughed at the floating toy, Harry simply held her in his arms, enjoying the comfort her presence gave him. He was afraid he had to leave her behind on Io when he went back to the front lines, but with the development of the Floo network, he now had the means to stay in touch.

CHOMP!

"He bit you!" The girl shrieked, and pulled the vicious flesh eater off her father's arm.

While Harry enjoyed Illana's innocence, he knew that it would not be long before he needed to teach her the more unpleasant things in life. He still hadn't figured out the nature of her Legilimancy, only that it was unnatural and unusually powerful. He worried at that, aware that children were not meant to possess that much power. Selner kept a biweekly checkup, and so far she hadn't detected anything worrisome, but it was just a matter of time.

A moment later, his wife entered their shared apartment, guiding a couple of gravitic floaters carrying shopping goods. That must have been where the new toy came from. Hopefully Amande didn't spend too much on them. He didn't want to spoil his little girl that much.

"Oh, you're home." Lady Amande remarked as she pushed the floaters away. "Don't you have work to do back at Firestorm?"

A tired sigh escaped his lips. "I've been doing the same thing over and over again. I've reinforced the keel and enchanted the structure as best I could. Any further magic will just weaken the existing wards. Instead, I need to discuss something with you."

"Oh? What's it all about? And what would you like to have for dinner?"

"Just prepare something you like, but don't call in the chef."

Neither of them were proficient cooks, and without their chef their options were limited. Nonetheless, Amande activated a preprogrammed routine in her kitchen module which prepared a simple but hearty dinner all by itself. That was one of the perks for splashing lots of credits in their apartment. After Amande confirmed the settings, she joined Harry at the other side of the couch.

Laying her fingers carefully across her lap, she regarded Harry with a serious expression. She knew her husband didn't particularly like the apartment, and slept at work most of the time. He only came here for Illana's sake. For him to come at this time meant he had something very important to discuss. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about, dear?"

"It's something concerning your cousin, Lady Anastasia."

"Oh…" Her eyes widened, and for a moment Amande feared that he found out about the secret deals she and Selner made with the Prime Minister. It was for Harry's own good, naturally, but he might not see that way if he found out the details. "Did she.. say anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well I haven't spoken to her, if that's what you mean. I'll probably get stuck with her secretary or something if I try." He shifted his eyes, and after squirming his distracted daughter from his lap, he retrieved a datapad from his pocket and threw it over the coffee table. Amande took it, noted the encryption and the fact that it was unlocked many days ago, began to read the short brief.

"This.. is a job offer. It's quite attractive."

That wasn't the way Harry saw it. He crossed his arms, frowning at Anastasia's offer. "She wants to transfer me from the privateers to the intelligence service. It'll be nice to get out of Admirals Wellesley and Turner's hairs, and the promotion to commodore is also nice."

"I can hear a 'but' coming."

"Glad to see that expression still exists in the thirty-first century." He smirked. Illana started to fuss again, so he took hold of the shark and threw it to the other side of the room, causing her to chase the toy in ecstatic glee. With that taken care of, he turned serious again. "If I transfer to the intelligence service, I gather that I'll be under Anastasia's direct control, right?"

The young lady nodded. "It depends exactly under which agency you are assigned to, but in general, all intelligence services are under the purview of the Interior Minister."

"At least I know how Admiral Wellesley stands. I can't say the same for Anastasia."

'_Is that what my stupid husband is worrying about? If only he knew how close he came to losing everything to Wellesley.'_ Amande understood Harry's apprehension, but considering all the facts, Anastasia was an infinitely better superior. "I know Lady Anastasia. She's not like her brother, you know. Wellesley grew up as a second son, groomed for the navy since birth. Anastasia is the heir, and she received a much more rounded upbringing. She prefers cooperation over conquest."

Harry's concerns were largely reassured, but he still needed a push. "She won't try to screw me over, right?"

"Of course not! She's family, and the last thing she needs is trouble within the House. We need to stand united against our enemies. We don't have any time to spare for internal conflict."

"Hmph, Star said as much."

Amande smirked a split second before regaining control. _'That's because I ordered Star to feed you that advice.'_

"I guess it's time for me to throw my lot with Anastasia. I hope I won't get into any further trouble with your uncles and aunts, Amande. I need to focus my attention to my ship and the war, not these petty politics."

"Politics is necessary, Harry. How else will people get things done?" Her wife admonished him. "But you've made a great choice. With Lady Anastasia and Lord Terrance covering your back, you should have enough freedom to escape further sanctions. Just don't do anything stupid."

"Hah, half the things I do is stupid in your family's eyes."

Before Amande could make an exasperated retort, a floating shark bit the top of her head.

* * *

The new job entailed a significant amount of changes in Harry's life. The intelligence service consisted of several branches, and came in different flavors. The main services dealt with the usual travails of sovereign powers, espionage and counter-espionage. A whole division concerned itself with hacking, stealing and trading all manner of trade secrets from the megacorps.

Then there was the Dust Devils. When Anastasia needed something dirty taken care of, she'd send out her Dust Devils, her personal black ops group. Oh, they had an official name, something long, boring and administrative looking. But everyone called them Dust Devils. When Director Kirk Stanley met with Captain Harry to iron out the details, the wizard found much to admire of the unassuming man and the dangerous organization he led.

"The Navy is the sword that boldly thrusts forward, but we are the dagger that slit men's throats from behind." Director Stanley said succinctly as he passed confidential datapads to Harry, showing him what his organization did and what he expected of the young man.

The sample Harry glimpsed certainly appeared ruthless. Assassinations of troublesome nobles. Industrial accidents at companies threatening House monopolies. Slaughters of distant mining colonies. Perhaps they even prepared plans to dispose of Harry himself. It all seemed so splendid, but the boy wondered how he could help. He wasn't exactly the subtlest knife in their midst. If they expected him to be a James Bond, they had another thing coming.

"If I join your organization, what would you have me do?"

"My organization does whatever is necessary to uphold Io. In times of peace, we mainly rely on low-key activities. Now that war has come, we must step up our capabilities and combat our enemies in way the Ioan Navy cannot. The pirates fight without honor and ignore the rules of war. We shall have to fight at their level, and who better to send against them than a former pirate?"

The director made a good point. The regular navy was too blunt of an instrument to waste on the pirates. Only the privateers managed to hold back the tide, but they were too outnumbered against the united tide of pirates fighting in the name of Jovia.

"I'll be honest to you in this, Captain Harry. The mission that we have in mind for you is fraught with risk. We demand much of you, but if successful, will help pave the way for our coming offensive against the heart of the pirate nation."

He snapped at that. "So it's true? You're planning to besiege Trindebal Station?"

"Perhaps." The director shrugged noncommittally. "But the road must first be paved. Will you accept?"

While the added difficulties inconvenienced Harry's plan, overall the wizard saw it as an opportunity. He hated languishing under Wellesley's tender care. The promise of more money, a bigger command and independent operation attracted him greatly. It also helped with the bigger picture. _'I haven't forgotten about Earth. I need to get back my eye, but the Bones will probably raise the entire planet against me. I have to play the long game and build up a force to equal Earth's own formidable defenses.'_

It chafed at him to admit what he had already concluded ever since he left that blasted planet. It took time to build up his fleet, providing the Bones more time to unlock the secrets of his magic and expand their control over the megacorporations ruling his home planet.

"I see no objections."

"Good, captain. I shall expedite the paperwork and see to it that you shall receive your promotion to Commodore in good haste. Once that is officially put into record, you shall receive your new ships and associated crew immediately. Use the time you have left well to prepare you for this journey.."

Both persons shook their hands, Director Stanley in modest satisfaction and Captain Harry in excited anticipation. He had new responsibilities, and the power that went with it. He had spent enough time in this era to know that he needed both to measure up to something to the people in this age. This was Amande's world, where wealth, connections and titles ruled the solar system. His promotion represented on step up that vaunted ladder to power.

* * *

The sudden news of his promotion overtook everyone not part of Selner's inner circle. Commander Claris most of all felt delighted at the new possibilities the changes brought, though she marginally resented the hidden hands that played a part. Still, Harry's first action as a Commodore was to promote Claris to the noble rank of Captain, something she clearly deserved.

"Thank you, sir." Claris saluted to her superior as he informed her of her new status. "I won't disappoint you."

Since commodore was a fleet command rank, Harry was glad to stop pretending that he knew all the nuts and bolts of operating a warship. Claris now led what was arguably the most powerful cruiser in the solar system. The prestige she gained from stepping out of Harry's shadow was immense, and public society started to look deeper in her background and identity. The added attention irked the vicious woman, who was still a pirate at heart. She detested the civilized world and turned her attention instead to integrating the new additions to Harry's command.

The _Laurentine II_, _Fairweather _and _Dunbatton_ were all virtually identical, having come off the shipyards in the same production run. The new war caused them to undergo a slight refit to modernize her systems, taking them out of play in the first months of the conflict. It was once she studied the ship class and spoke with their captains that she learned the extent of their autonomy.

"We have a problem, Harry." Claris reported a day after her investigations. She wore her new rank insignia proudly. "The captains of the three Q-ships are all Dust Devil veterans. They accept the need for modifications to their ships, but they refuse to let themselves be reassigned or reorganized. The captains state they have been given this discretion by Director Stanley himself, sir."

It was to be expected. Harry refrained from pursing her lips like Claris did now. "I've learned my lesson back when I still galloped around as a pirate. I'm not going to trust a full crew of recently inducted soldiers on their own ship, no matter the fact we have the Floo network now. We'll just have to strengthen the ship in ways that the crew won't figure out what we've done."

"About that, sir.." Claris interrupted him. "We designed the _Immortal Marauder _specifically to take advantage of your magical capabilities. These Q-ships aren't optimized for the same treatment as they do not enjoy nEMP shielding."

That severely limited how extensive Harry could fortify them. _'Ah well, it's for the best. I can't give all three ships the full treatment._'

Later, much later on, Harry finally had the opportunity to meet with his new captains himself. They were a tough and competent lot, he admitted as he observed them entering his office. One woman, two men. The woman didn't look nearly as glamorous as Claris, but that didn't detract from her job. The man who stood next to her looked like a supersized marine, and he clearly had experience facing death in the eye. The last captain looked positively thin in comparison, looking more at home in an accountant's office than the bridge of a warship.

"Let's sound introduce ourselves, shall we?" Harry said with a deliberate touch of informality. He wanted to make it very clear he didn't want to abide by strict military convention. "I'm Commodore Harry Antares, and I guess I'll be in charge of you all."

As expected, the more gung-ho captains frowned ever-so-slightly at his breach of protocol. The facial expressions were minute, but Harry's artificial eye read their body language as clear as day. Only Mister Accountant succeeded in maintaining complete neutrality. _'The jarheads won't give me trouble. It's this spy I'll have to keep my eye on.'_

He had also expected this, of course. Io wanted to learn as much secrets as possible, and they probably riddled his new crew with informants. Perhaps they were even fooling him now. _'Maybe the bookworm is just a decoy, and the meathead is the real spy._' Working with them necessitated some exposure to proprietary technology. Some compromises had to be made, of course, but they would never learn the truth. _'Let them try to figure out my magic. They won't get far.'_

After a moment of puzzlement, the woman firmly strode forward and gave Harry a salute sharp enough to cut a block of ice. "Captain Rebecca Quinn of the _Laurentine II_, reporting for duty!"

Next was Mister Big Guy. "Captain Stefan Orlov of the _Fairweather_, reporting for duty."

"Captain Jason Long of the _Dunbatton_, reporting for duty." The thin man rasped at last.

"Long? Of the House of Long?" Harry said, suddenly recognizing the name. He briefly considered the House some time ago for some favor, but eventually passed over them and gained Lord Terrance's favor instead.

"I am a third-generation off-shoot from the main branch, sir." Jason said sourly, as if he didn't want to dwell on this matter at all.

Well-versed with the customs of the noble houses of the Wizarding World, he could guess how miserable the distant offshoots of prominent families faired. It mattered little at this stage, and Harry was eager to move forward. "Alright, let's get on with this briefing thing. Captain Claris?"

His right-hand woman stepped from the shadows and activated a projection of the Jupiter Outback. "Our mission is as follows…"

Claris' briefing repeated what everyone already knew, but there was more. Harry had made some additional plans that Claris worked out in further detail. She revealed her results for the first time. "As you are no doubt aware, Captain Harry has been granted a significant amount of operating freedom. If everything goes well and we capture a significant amount of corvettes and other light classes, he intends to strike directly at a pirate fortification."

That got their attention. Expecting a sleepy briefing, the three new captains leaned forward to learn what Harry had in mind.

"The pirates of Jupiter do not possess a robust infrastructure. They have a relatively tiny population to levy taxes. They have very little raw materials production, preferring instead to steal what they need. What infrastructure they do have is dedicated to processing plunder and repairing warships. If we wish to diminish the threat that these pirates pose, we have to take away their support."

"Do you have a specific objective in mind?"

Claris shook her head. "There are several targets of opportunity. It will depend on how many ships we are able to gather and which pirate stations are the most exposed."

There was a bit more to that in their plan, but the new captains didn't need to know that yet. After a few other questions and answers, they saluted Harry and marched out of his office like a squad of well-oiled marines. Claris stood by her master's shoulders, ready to meet his every need.

"Have you taken stock of our new crew?"

"It's as you've expected, Harry. They are hardened, experienced men. The Q-ships are stuffed with marines and surplus spacers. The extra personnel will be useful taking control of newly converted ships, but their discipline will make it difficult for you to issue orders they might not want to obey."

It was pointless integrating them with his Mark. The current crew of the _Immortal Marauder_ played along because they volunteered for the duty and mostly consisted of underwhelming performers. That made it easy for Harry to keep under wraps.

"Do the best you can to keep them ignorant of my magic. When we lay open the Q-ships and add our own improvements, we'll enchant the components out of sight and skip the house-elves entirely. In fact, let them help with the reassembly, it'll save in manpower and keeps them from doing anything funny."

"An astute idea, Commodore. I'll pass on your orders. There's one more thing, however."

Harry raised his eyebrow, prompting Claris to speak further.

"We should also prepare precautions in the event that they.. invade the _Marauder_. It's awfully convenient for you to receive a promotion and a handful of ships without much trouble. We still haven't figured out Captain Rysa's unfortunate death either. What if Lady Anastasia intends.."

"That sounds unlikely, Claris." Harry interrupted her. "Anastasia is not like Wellesley. Star advised me that she's eager to get a hand of our technology, but she won't press on it like her big bro. If we just give away a few samples here and there, Amande will reckon that should prove enough to sate her hunger."

Captain Claris shook her head to show her disapproval. "Urgh, you may placate the House for now, but they'll keep asking more. This is a slippery slope you're sliding on. Sooner or later they'll learn your equipment is weak to nEMP."

"Probably sooner if they have some brains. I've developed some countermeasures in that regard. We only need to stick around long enough to gather more ships and resources. I've got Arnaud spying on them constantly. If he brings any word of betrayal, we'll split and leave the Ioans with nothing."

The plan hardly generated confidence, and Claris resolved to develop her own contingency plans. Harry wasn't exactly the most gifted administrator, and his reliance on those hussies who keep his bed warm bordered on negligence. _'He's brilliant with magic, but not much in anything else.'_

Well, at least he has a talented woman like Claris to watch his back. One day, after Selner's inevitable betrayal, Harry would find out how grateful he should be to his long-time confidante.

* * *

Firestorm Solutions began to work on the three Q-ships as soon as they arrived at the repair facility. Harry focused first and foremost on durability, dismantling the armor plating on the ships to undergo 'special treatment' before being handed back to the crew for them to reassemble the components onto their vessels. He didn't have enough time to spend on upgrading their weapons. The newly promoted Commodore was leery enough providing them with a batch of the ill-named 'supertorpedoes', but he made a leap of faith and trusted his new crew not to stab him in the back.

Harry's furious activities went unnoticed to much of the outside world. In her office, Lady Anastasia read daily reports from her spies about the progress of the refit. Wellesley did so likewise at the Admiralty, grinding his teeth at the fact that his big sister upstaged his carefully laid plans.

Other factions also paid attention. Rival Houses, jealous at the fame and prestige Harry brought the most eminent House of Io, sought any opportunity to steal or sabotage his secrets. The same rang true for the megacorporations who were anxious to protect their cozy cartels.

Yet the attention did not end at Io. All other powers, Europa included, anxiously tracked the movements of Io's most dangerous officer. They actually felt somewhat relieved that Harry had stayed out of the front lines for so long, keeping everything predictable. That was about to end soon as the wildcard entered the turbulent sea of Jupiter's orbit.

Still, interest stretched beyond even at this scope. Jupiter's neighbors Mars and Saturn had the most to fret about any escalation that could affect their own peaceful territories. The other planets of the solar system on the other hand merely paid interest due to the novelty of another war. Much could be learned in the ongoing conflict, such as the performance of current-generation warships and the implementation of new technology. The groups who were interested in Harry's performance were his hidden descendants who still remembered how society used to be. Some were convinced of Harry's identity, but others merely held suspicions.

Only one particular bloodline knew better than most. Back at Earth, in a highly secretive lab, a very quaint blob of biomass bubbled peacefully in a vat filled with bioliquids. Two observers wearing identical robes stared wondrously at the ugly growth, worshipping it with as much reverence as a priest in front of an altar.

"It's so large.." A young, female voice called out. Her whispering words bounced off the cold metal walls of the lab in a chillingly cold echo. "The cell culture was barely a layer of tissue last time I visited here."

"Three-hundred grams of flesh and bone has grown around the eye since then." An older, matronly voice revealed to her younger protégé. "Our little ancestor is hard at work playing wizard, thinking he can match our might."

The young brunette smirked at the silly statement. "We've accomplished much without direct magic. Once the body is grown, we can show the world why men like Harry will fall before women like us."

"Patience, young Sister." Her mentor replied, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "The body must grow much more before our time is at hand. Our Progenitor needs to expend much more magic to fuel its growth."

The tissue culture shook ever so slightly, signifying another influx of magic leeched from its former owner's body. Ever since their ascendance on Earth, the Sisterhood had prepared for the return of the Progenitor. They kept all the pieces in place for many patient centuries. Their persistence paid off, and now they had the means to herald the return of magic in a society of lazy, decadent muggles.

"I can't wait." The youngest sighed at last as she entertained fantasies of slinging bolts of primal magic. "I thought my service up at the mountain would end up just like my predecessors."

A lonely life of dusting ancient shelves, studying magic that you could never use and waiting for a legend that almost every other magical had forgotten was a terrible waste for a promising Sister like her. Even if her shift at the sanctuary lasted only ten years (the Progenitor had a tendency to underestimate and look down on young women), she used to complain at the waste of her youth. Not anymore. Once the artificial body finished growing, she expected great rewards and a front row seat to the birth of a new era.

The pair stared at the growth for a few more minutes before the older woman turned away to leave. Her adjutant followed respectfully by her side, holding up a reverent arm.

"I'm not so old that my bones are starting to creak!" The old matron barked, but she withheld much of her sting. "Though I'm afraid my body will reach that point by the time we finish our conquest of the solar system."

"The muggles can't handle our arsenal, especially once we gain our Progenitor's ability. We'll roll over the entire solar system in a matter of years."

The elder chuckled at her student's boundless optimism. "War will prove much messier than you think. Most of your fellow Sisters think the same as you, but how many of you have come face to face with death?"

"Your wisdom does you credit, milady." And the young lady meant it. Her mentor was a veteran of the last Terran-Martian War, and a hero in the hidden conflict that raged unseen from muggle eyes. "But our Martian rivals will not be able to thwart us this time."

"It is not the Malfoy-Delacours that I have concerns about. You forget the risk that our Progenitor himself may pose to our plans. He has come terribly close to annihilating our every other ancestor. He can do so again."

'_That waste of magic can't climb himself out of a sandbox.' _Despite the truth in that warning, the brunette still felt dismissive of the threat. Having expected a veritable Dark Lord when she initially encountered the legend, she instead learned that Harry Potter was simply an emotionally impaired dunce. All of his subsequent actions reinforced that perception.

"It matters little. He's just going to respond with the only thing he knows: throw more magic at the problem." The more magic Harry brought into the world, the more he unwittingly fed the Sisterhood's reserves.

'_The age of men is almost at its end.'_

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	56. II: A Captivating Start

February 14, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: I've received the usual reviews concerning Harry's rotten personality and his relatively underwhelming level of power. I have my own views on how they will progress and I do not intend to deviate from my plan.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_A Captivating Start_

* * *

Commodore Harry Antares welcomed his departure from the smothering society of Io to the boonies of the Jupiter Outback. In the remaining time he had been issued since his promotion, he worked hard expending his magic in warding his new additions. By the time he completed his work, the _Laurentine II_, _Fairweather_ and _Dunbatton_ could withstand hits a class above their frigate-grade armor. That still left them dangerously vulnerable for a vessel of their sie, but that was the nature of Q-ships. They were meant to ambush unwitting raiders from close range with devastating volleys and pelt any distant enemies with missiles and torpedoes.

"You'll have to rely principally on the Q-ships if you wish to capture pirate corvettes, sir." Captain Claris warned her master as they prepared to enter the Gravitic Catapult that would take Harry's squadron straight to the critical cluster of mining colonies under threat. The expense of a single trip far outweighed the consequences of a complete collapse, so Director Stanley of the Dust Devils eagerly covered the fee.

"Our cruiser is large and optimized for formal fleet engagements." Harry's most deathly subordinate continued as she kept a wary eye over navigations and helm, but Helmsman Nicholas and Navigator Jennings knew what they were doing. "Sure, the Maddie is tougher and faster, but the variable asteroid environment will make it unwise for us to maintain a high speed. There's too much space junk floating out there, and we'll erode out hull plating if we move too recklessly. We'll have to adjust our tactics and make greater use of our fighter craft. They thrive in cluttered regions like the heart of the Jupiter Outback."

"Five minutes until we launch, ma'm."

"Lieutenant Kenzie, put our squadron in red mode, full battle stations."

"Aye aye, ma'm." The young comm officer chirped, and relayed the necessary orders. The crew of all four ship readied themselves for combat, expecting little from their transit but preparing for the worst if it came to it. While the latest intelligence revealed that the mining colonies were still intact, it might be a ruse.

Sitting beside Claris in an identical high-powered chair, Harry glanced at his beautiful subordinate, momentarily admiring her curling dark hair. "I'm sure you can adjust, Claris. Still, you're probably right. We'll keep the _Marauder_ in reserve and use the Q-ships as they're meant to be used. I'm.. I'm only worried how many casualties we'll sustain. They don't boast nearly as much armor as our cruiser. It'll be worse if it comes to hostile boardings."

"Harry.. sir.." Claris shook his head, trying to find the right words to relay her feelings on the matter. "The crewmembers of the _Marauder_ are yours. They have personally pledged their allegiance to you and your cause. The same cannot be said to the elite Dust Devils that you command."

"Two minutes until we initiate Gravitic Catapult launch, ma'm."

For a moment, Harry looked puzzled. "What are you saying, Claris?"

The female captain leaned closer and activated a discrete privacy screen, preventing the rest of the bridge from listening in. "There's no reason to value the Dust Devils more than your own crew. They're all expendable. You should be thinking about maximizing your gains instead of conserving their lives. Just take advantage of your authority over them and capture as many pirate vessels as you can. That's their purpose."

It sounded too convenient, and a bit cowardly as well. Yet Claris was right, and he shouldn't regard the additional ships as his own. Rather, they were on loan, for him to command, but not to possess. _'I have an opportunity to gain ships, resources and fame.'_

"Initiating Catapult launch in ten seconds!"

The _Immortal Marauder_ and her escort of Q-ships launched forward with incredible energies and transitioned into a different dimension. The sensation felt as ethereal as before, and many crewmen who experienced Catapult travel for the first time felt whoozy in their stomachs. Their half-substantial phase, which allowed them to cut through most asteroids and other obstacles like a ghost, ended abruptly quickly. It took many minutes to several hours to travel from planet to planet, but to travel from one side of Jupiter's orbit to another only took a handful of seconds.

"Transition complete!"

"Mr. Nicholas, hold position relative to the asteroid field! Ms. Kenzie, Scan our immediate surroundings!" Claris ordered curtly. "Launch our fighter contingent and order Commander Cyrus to scout the edge of our sensor envelope!"

Several seconds passed as the bridge processed Claris' orders. Nothing appeared to be wrong so far as the sensor plot resolved itself. The Gravitic Catapult delivered them neatly inside a relatively empty pocket near Io's colony cluster.

"Ma'm, we're being painted with active scanners! It's… it's the privateers!"

'_So far, so good.'_ Claris thought, and issued a request to open communications to the front-most privateer ship, a single worn-out destroyer. Soon enough, security codes were exchanges and both sides confirmed each other's identities.

The most senior captain of the privateers appeared on screen at that moment. "Captain Winslow of the _Glistening Sun_, at your service. Welcome to the Darwin Cluster."

"Thank you. I am Captain Claris of the _Immortal Marauder_, speaking on behalf of Commodore Harry of the House Antares. I am transmitting priority orders to you now."

The camera feed clearly showed Harry sitting impassively next to Claris' seat. Winslow found it odd that Harry didn't take charge directly. In actuality, he still couldn't believe a hero and legend like Harry Antares would waste his time in the Outback. His powerful cruiser was best put to use against the big hitters of the other nations.

"We confirm receipt of our new orders." Winslow went on as he studied the encrypted messages that arrived at his terminal. "The privateer flotilla under my command will maintain a defensive cordon around the critical mining bases in the Darwin Cluster. Mining Base Cleopatra is at your disposal for repair and rearm, though the local director there won't like it. Take care when you deal with those corporate suits."

The transmission cut off, leaving Harry's ships hanging about without any purpose. Harry thrummed his fingers. "Looks like the privateers here won't give us any trouble, but the mining base might sing differently."

Captain Claris grunted. "That's the problem with business types. They only care about making profit and cutting costs as long as they don't feel they're under threat."

"Open a channel to Cleopatra and ask for permission to dump the cargo we've been forced to carry. I want to move out as quickly as possible and get this over with."

The sensor noise and the distance made it difficult to achieve a clean communications lock. Even then, the base took three minutes until it finally acknowledged an audio-only connection. An irritated voice popped up. "Mining Base Cleopatra, Director James Prince speaking. What is it?"

Ignoring the acidic tone behind the cultured voice, Claris smoothly replied with no hint of offense. "This is Captain Claris of the _Immortal Marauder_, speaking on behalf of Commodore Harry of the House Antares. We request permission to dock the _Laurentine II, Fairweather_ and _Dunbatton_ at Cleopatra to disgorge our cargo."

A few crackles occupied the feed before the director spoke again. "You are welcome to dock at the Cleopatra, but our hangar only has space for one medium-sized hauler. We shall open our hangar doors as soon as you pay the docking fees."

The feed cut off, then, and moments later Kenzie sat up. "Sir, we've received a data package from Cleopatra. It's… an invoice."

'_What the fuck?'_ Harry took one look at the requested fee and slammed the image away. "This is fucking outrageous. We're the only thing standing in the way between life or death and this Prince ponce thinks he can fleece me of my credits?!"

"Sir," Claris added, trying to calm him down before he decided to do something rash. "The Dust Devils have provided us access to several accounts for these purposes. We can pay our expenses from there."

But Harry was too enraged to consider that option. "I'm not going to let this snob impose his stupid rules on me. I'm the highest ranking military officer in this region. He should be the one scraping before my boots, not the other way around."

"What do you intend, Commodore?"

That required some thought. Harry spent half a minute trying to figure out a form of retaliation. His earlier reaction appeared petty, he realized. And if he struck back in some significant way, the director might take it as a personal affront and sabotage a critical service such as repairs. _'I don't have time to waste on this shit.'_

Waving his hand, Harry huffed. "Never mind. Use the government accounts to cover the fee."

"Yes, sir." Claris said with evident relief.

After that small incident, the unloading proceeded quietly, each Q-ship docking at the fortified mining base in turn. Half a day had passed before they finished the procedure.

"Let's get out of here." Harry hissed, and his task force eagerly lurched forward, navigating a careful route through thousands of idle asteroid rocks.

Some of the rocks were loose matter leftover from the birth of the sun. Others once travelled blissfully in space before they were somehow caught by Jupiter's voracious gravity well. Harry always imagined the largest planet of the solar system to be a huge dragon of legend, hoarding an ever-increasing amount of treasure for treasure's sake. Now, while the dragon slumbered, the parasitic race of man acted like thieves, trying to smuggle out the most valuable relics from the massive hoard.

It was Harry's job to protect the mines and weaken the pirates. To do that, he needed a plan. "Send word to the other ships in my command. Call them in for a conference."

"Electronic, or in person?"

"In person."

* * *

The demand to transfer from their own vessels to the _Immortal Marauder_ via shuttle inconvenienced the Q-ships captains, but not as much as Harry hoped. He wanted to make them sweat a little by traveling through a busy asteroid field, and then become impressed by the modern interior of his cruiser. Instead, they just studied it intently, taking particular note of the non-standard additions he implemented, such as hatches leading to pocket dimensions.

'_At least I've etched all the ritual circles and such on the other side of the bulkhead panels.'_ That had been one of Claris' good idea. Not only would the wards become less vulnerable to any fighting or other hazard that might take place in the corridors, the modifications was completely invisible unless someone ripped out the plates and turned them over.

Once his new arrivals seated themselves around the lavishly decorated conference room, Harry activated a projection of the Darwin Cluster and began the meeting. "Good day, ladies and gentlemen. Our mission, as you know, is to subdue and capture the local pirate elements in this region. I'd like to hear suggestions on how we might go about this fast. I want to build up our forces quickly before they realize what we're up to. We need to do as much damage as possible before Io launches its first major offensive."

Captain Long, the weediest among the bunch, spoke first. "According to intelligence reports, the pirate corvettes that fight under the flag of Jovia typically organize themselves into wolf packs of six to ten corvettes, with a larger class thrown in on occasion. Nevertheless, they won't dare to attack a convoy escorted by a cruiser."

"I've already thought of that." Admittedly, any kid with an IQ larger than a beanstalk could see that. "It sounds like we need to keep the _Immortal Marauder_ separated from your Q-ships. Do you think it's a good idea to keep your vessels together and pretend you're a convoy?"

This time Captain Rebecca Quinn answered the question. "Ordinarily, the risks are manageable, since pirates rarely work together. But if Captain Long is true, and that Admiral Black is forcing his pirate forces to consolidate, then a single Q-ship can't withstand multiple corvettes without destroying them outright and taking significant losses in the process. A convoy of three will give us a much greater measure of protection against a typical pirate corvette squadron."

The other captains, including Claris, all concurred with Quinn's assessment.

"Alright, so we'll masquerade the Q-ships as a trade convoy. Do you think the pirates will be fooled if they travel without an escort?"

"Hm.. likely not."

"I've given some thought on the matter." Captain Claris interjected. "The _Marauder_ has a fighter complement of six craft. I think letting them escort the convoy may prove sufficient to fool most pirates."

"There are some flaws with that course of action." Quinn replied to the other female in the room. "First, if the pirates are any good, they'll stay hidden and observe the convoy for a day or two. Fighters cannot stay in flight that long, and our Q-ships aren't built to receive such craft. They'll have to return all the way to the _Immortal Marauder_ to replenish, thereby exposing her position."

"Anything else?" Claris asked with a ticked voice.

"Second, an escort of just six fighters for a convoy of three haulers transporting valuable extra-solar materials at this distance is laughable. A convoy of that magnitude warrants an escort of several frigates."

Claris' smile turned acidic at those words. "That's a navy officer's assessment on logistics. Most pirates only see what they want to see. Even if the leader of a wolf pack has some brains, he won't be able to control the rest of his pack from storming in and wipe out the fighters. Pirates simply don't have that level of discipline and restraint."

"I think Claris' solution is the best we have." Harry added, putting his support behind his favored subordinate. "We don't have a lot of possibilities with the limited forces that we have at our disposal. If we let the Q-ships travel completely without an escort, the pirates will scratch their head and start to think what they're hiding. With just a nominal escort of fighters, they'll just think we're too cheap to dedicate more substantial protection and won't think to look further."

He could tell that the three Dust Devil captains were less than convinced at that reasoning, but Harry had good reason to believe Claris. He'd spent quite some time among pirates, and while they were more diverse and professional than he thought, they often let their greed get the better of them. Most of those corvette captains must be chafing at the sudden imposition of rules set down by the Callistoan Maffia.

The group argued a little bit more about the decision, but Harry was the commanding officer and he had no problem imposing his will on this matter. By the time the officers departed, Harry managed to lower his standing even further in their eyes. Not that Harry cared. _'Ah, the privilege of rank.'_

It felt good being on the other side of the coin. The only thing that irked him was that there were still plenty of jerks above his head. He still preferred to be independent, but if he had to work together with other people, he at least wanted to be at the very top.

* * *

The Jupiter Outback was an immense area of floating debris, circling around Jupiter in virtually all dimensional planes. By far the most asteroids rotated around the exact center of the gargantuan planet, but plenty of junk travelled diagonally above and below the main plane. The reach of what people commonly thought of as the Outback referred to all the satellites stretching from the edge of Callisto's orbit to the orbit of Jupiter's most distant moon of significant size, Sinope.

The scope of this area was enormous. Two ships travelling aimlessly through the sphere might spend an eternity alone before they were finally able to meet each other. Yet despite this vast emptiness, the location of most mining bases were known. Every ship of import clustered around these regions where mankind had an active presence.

It took only little more than a week before they encountered their first pirates. The Q-ships travelled in a typical trade convoy formation, while four of the Maddie's six fighters kept up a lazy patrol. When Harry implemented the plan, he knew he was asking much of his contingent of pilots. Flight Commander Cyrus suggested that he implemented a rotation where two out of three pairs of strike craft patrolled out in space while letting the remaining pair catch up some sleep.

The idea was sound, but Cyrus also had another suggestion. While the Q-ships were not equipped to receive and launch fighters under combat conditions, they were still able to receive the fighters manually through their modest shuttle bays. It took some haranguing, but the captains grumblingly made room in their bays by transferring the shuttles to the _Marauder_. These actions completed the ruse, making it apparent to all outside eyes that this was a lightly defended convoy, relying more on stealth than on force to make them through. Since Io and Europa were strained enough as they were, it was a plausible though uncommon sight.

"Sir." Captain Claris greeted her superior as he arrived at the bridge at a run at the sound of the alarm. "The _Fairweather_ has detected incoming heat signatures from her upper starboard side."

"How many?" The Commodore asked as he strapped himself to his seat. A gazillion displays bloomed before him, but he didn't have the technical competence to understand most of them. _'Someone needs to dumb this crap down.'_

"The signatures are consistent with corvettes accelerating to interception."

"Are there any signs that there are more that we haven't detected yet?"

She shook her head. "We cannot tell, but their formation doesn't suggest so. The _Immortal Marauder_ is too far back to observe. We're relying completely on the sensors of the Q-ships."

As the distance slowly closed, it appeared the corvettes were racing forward in an erratic formation. The center corvette looked to be a little heavier than the others, probably slowing down the rest. There was a chance here that this might be a ruse, and that the pirates just wanted to draw out his trump card before revealing their own. The uncertainty nagged at him. Lives were at stake. Yet.. Harry didn't feel that was the case. _'I'm overthinking this. Most pirates aren't capable of planning that deep.'_

"The corvettes will enter engagement range in ten minutes, sir. What are your orders?"

The wizard hummed a little, weighing his options. The seven corvettes didn't present a great threat, though they could do some nasty damage before his strike craft and Q-ships subdued them. If necessary, he could order his cruiser to come out of hiding and broadside all of the corvettes with his powerful varilasers set to nEMP. Yet.. there was no need to risk his ship.

"The Q-ships can handle themselves. Order them to maximize the possibility of capturing the corvettes whole. I'm more worried about our fighters. Tell them to help out where they can, but don't take any risks. We need them throughout the entire campaign."

Nodding approvingly, Claris relayed her orders. Captain Long of the _Dunbatton_ argued with her for half a minute over the secure laser link, but she had the distinct pleasure to tell him that the _Marauder_ wouldn't be helping out unless the situation spiraled out of control.

* * *

The battle that unfolded started out exactly as everyone expected. Believing that the Q-ships were nothing more than helpless whales, they spread out and focused their efforts on annihilating the fighters with their fast-firing pulse turrets.

Of course, these weren't your average fighters. All the enhancements that Harry poured into the _Immortal Marauder_ to make it the juggernaut it was today, he extended it to his fighters as well.

"Keep calm and stay in formation." Commander Cyrus instructed his wing. "Don't let them suspect we're more than we appear."

Only when the eager corvettes started to rip their pulsers did the fighters explode into action. "Maximum acceleration! Make one pass then keep going forward!"

The fighters zipped forward so fast that most sensors confused them for missiles. The pirate corvettes expected to chase away flies. Now they were barely dodging out of the way for bullets. The needle-like scouts, robust-looking interceptors and a pair of murderous bombers split up and lined up against three of the largest corvettes. The scouts and interceptors were refit with nEMP weapon mounts for the purpose of the mission, and their extraordinary long bursts disabled a raft of subsystems.

Just before the two waves passed, the bombers released their nEMP bombs. Carefully timed, they only exploded once the fighter wing left the blast radius. The subsequent blast of nEMP crippled their direct targets and interfered with the systems of the other pirate corvettes.

"Shall we turn around for another pass?" Trident asked over the comms, eager to test his enhanced craft in real conditions.

"No. Let the Q-ships finish them off. Take up a position at the next waypoint to cordon off an escape in that direction."

The initial shock of the attack affected the corvette captains hard. Of those that still had control over their propulsion system, only half tried to veer away.

At this point, the _Laurentine II_ decided that the time for deception. The front-most Q-ship turned a hard right and opened the well-hidden gun ports along her tall, thick hull. Captain Quinn stoically gave the order to fire a rapid sequence of three volleys, and the broadside of Class VII nEMP turrets spat out unerringly accurate bolts of electric rage.

The _Dunbatton_ to the rear revealed her own guns at this point and fired a wild barrage of heavy pulses, more to discourage than to actually damage. They still wanted all the corvettes intact.

Only the _Fairweather_ deviated from her fellow sister ships. It left formation and jumped forward, aiming her bow squarely at the incoming corvettes, most of which were now traversing along a ballistic course. Her twin bow torpedo launchers released a pair of heavy boarding capsules, both filled to capacity with heavy-armed marines.

Unlike the cruder and cheaper models that basically punched right through the hulls of larger vessels, these particular capsules were built with corvettes in mind. They were more maneuverable and possessed braking elements that slowed their approach just enough not to bore right through the entire length of the hull. The Dust Devil marines inside the capsules poured out of their container and quickly worked to subdue the scattered and confused pirates within.

Other boarding capsules quickly tamed the other corvettes. The entire battle, as pathetic as it sounded, ended in an hour. There had been a couple of setbacks throughout the pacification. The lead pirate captain was a little nastier than most, and prepared several booby-traps and ambushes that survived the initial nEMP waves. The marines there were more concerned with speed than caution, causing them to suffer a number of unfortunate casualties. Three died instantly.

Shortly afterwards another incident cropped forward. The last corvette to be boarded had enough time to recover from its shock and figured out what the squadron was after. The captain there rigged the fusion reactor powering the corvette and threatened to blow the vessel unless the crew was allowed to go free.

Somewhat pissed about the casualties, Harry let the self-important captain rant for a quarter of an hour, just enough time for his cruiser to emerge from cover and travel close enough into broadside range.

"You know what?" Harry said, mercilessly cutting off the pirate captain's tirade. "I've already got six corvettes. That's quite a good catch. I don't need a seventh, not if the captain is willing to blow up his own ship. So goodbye."

He cut off the feed and gave a meaningful stare to Claris, who nodded in understanding and ordered a broadside of pulses. The _Marauder_'s broadside of devastating Class XI varilasers only needed one, thunderous volley to tear the helpless corvette apart. The deaths of the crew were unnecessarily violent and shocked everyone who was not used to Harry's command.

"Sir?" Lieutenant Kenzie called out. "I have an incoming link from the _Dunbatton_."

Sighing, Harry waved an assent.

"That was a waste." Captain Long said, just barely recovering from the brutal act. "Our mission is to capture and convert as many corvettes as we can. How can we gather the necessary force if you blow our captured ships up needlessly?"

There was something in his words that stung Harry's pride. What did the likes of Captain Long knew about the rustle and bustle of pirates? "Look here, captain. Don't tell me how to do my job. I was picked to lead this mission because I know how to cow them into submission. If I did not do what I just ordered, we would have had to deal with a rebellious herd that will continue to resent our hold over their lives. Now at least I've got them pissing in their vacsuits."

"Respectfully sir, there are more effective ways to inspire fear among your captives."

Commodore Harry laughed at the idea. "Then it's a good thing I'm in charge. From now on, no matter how many ships we capture, we're going to blow up at least one of them with the crew still on it. We need to prove to the pirates running roughshod in this region that we're serious about restoring order."

Long looked genuinely troubled by his superior's ideas. "Is it order you want, or tyranny?"

"Oh don't be sanctimonious, captain. Aren't the Dust Devils all about illegal, clandestine actions?"

"If it were up to me, sir, I rather stayed with the Ioan Navy. I am not part of this organization by choice." He replied with the hint of a disdainful sneer. "Like you, political realities can have an unexpected effect on one's career."

'_Merlin, just when I thought I finally outran these moralists, one inevitably gets assigned under me. How wonderful.'_ At least the captain was the only voice of dissent. Harry had plans for this campaign, and a single whiny snob wasn't going to derail his ambitions. "Whatever. Continue securing our captives and prep the lead corvette for my arrival. I want to meet the captain who led this pathetic bunch in person."

Instead of an acknowledgement, Harry only received a scowl and a salute before the feed cut off.

* * *

The corvette wasn't shabby, Harry thought as he entered the craft by shuttle. Everything looked relatively clean, though the captain obviously had a penchant for trophies of his past captures, which hung in every corridor. He chose to let Captain Claris and an escort of ex-pirates accompany him in this trip and leave the rigid, honor-bound First Squad at home.

The marines who took over the vessel had separated the officers from the rabble and housed them in the small mess. The tall, bearded captain glared at Harry the moment he entered.

"I've heard of you, filth. You betrayed your fellow pirates and opened your legs to the Ioans!"

Pressing his lips, Harry cast his gaze to the weapons that his escort carried. Then he saw what he needed from the marines from the _Fairweather_. He stretched out his hand. "Pulse pistol, please."

It was a test as much of a request. Surely aware of the reason why Harry wanted the weapon, the marine lieutenant in charge nevertheless handed over his sidearm without a fuss. His hard expression and ramrod posture marked him as a soldier cut from a different cloth than Captain Long. Once Harry deactivated the safety, he calmly aimed his weapon at the now-frightened captain and fired once.

"Arghhh!" The pirate cried out as his left knee burned from the hot energy particles. "I.. I thought you navy types had honor! We're prisoners of war!"

"I doubt you extended the same courtesy to your own captives." Harry quirked, and hunched forward, keeping his weapon aimed at the other knee. "Now, I'm just here to ask a few questions."

Predictably, the pirate spilled what few beans he had quite easily since he didn't owe any particular loyalty to Admiral Black. "I don't know much, not even where all the other wolf packs are operating. They just let a bunch of us loose in a sector and they pay us how much we destroy or capture."

"Why are you forced to operate together?"

"They tell us they want to force you Ioans and Europans to spend more resources defending your stupid mining bases. The more, the better."

That was an unusual motivation, and Harry once again suspected a deeper level of strategy here that he couldn't quite grasp. Normally, an admiral wanted to face as few ships in battle as he could. To purposefully attract a significant number of anti-pirate forces meant that Admiral Black had something special in mind. _'Maybe that's why I got this weird assignment. If I'm to press-gang my own fleet, I don't want it to be used as cannon fodder.'_

The pirates didn't know much else besides some low-level intelligence. The exhausted captain looked at Harry with agonizing eyes. "I've told you all I know, I swear! Will you let me go now?"

'_A pirate who manages to keep six quarreling corvettes in line is too dangerous to keep around.'_ The wizard decided, and he smiled sweetly at his wounded captive. "Sure I'll let you go."

He pulled the trigger. "With a bolt through your head."

Suitably horrified, the remaining officers practically crumbled before the boy once he turned his attention to them. Harry found it singularly ironic that these pirates cowered without so much of a shred of dignity when they previously crooned when the tables were turned.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen from now on. You are all pardoned for your crimes and have voluntarily enlisted as Ioan privateers. Your executive officer will take over as captain. Half your crew will be sent to one of my ships for retraining. My own personnel will fill in the gap. For the duration of this campaign you shall remain under my command and receive a share of all the prize money we receive. Once the war ends, you will have an opportunity to retire with a healthy pension and, as previously mentioned, an unconditional pardon. So decide for yourselves: do you want to serve a real country for a change, or do you want to die?"

The intelligence types were right on one thing. Faced with the choice between death or betrayal, the pirates sure displayed very little loyalty to their previous allegiance. While this turned out well right now, it could turn out to be a double-edged sword. _'They're going to turn on me in a heartbeat if they have the chance.'_

Claris fortunately provided him with a helpful suggestion. She ordered her marines to search the ship for something every decent pirate ship stocked. They returned with an unremarkable box. Claris opened it, and handed Harry a slave collar.

"These are standard devices. I doubt the pirates tampered with them but we should check them out to be sure. You can use several means to set the locking mechanism. It's set to biometric for now, meaning only you can remove a collar once you set it to a prisoner."

"Excellent, Claris. Good work." Harry complimented her, causing her to beam with pride. He turned to the executive officer and attached the collar firmly at the neck. "As long as you dance to my tune, you have nothing to be scared of. The moment you do anything funny…"

He drew his fingers over his own neck while making the classic _chk! _sound. "And it's off with your head."

The day ended well for Harry. He had gained six new corvettes without significant losses. He doubted he would remain this lucky, but the extra firepower afforded him a larger buffer. His bare squadron of Q-ships and a single cruiser became just a little bit more formidable with the addition of the corvettes.

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	57. II: Birds of Prey

February 16, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Birds of Prey_

* * *

The plan was surprisingly successful, if brief. Harry's squadron, swelled with recent captures, managed to overcome two more corvette packs without much effort. They had so many ships now that Claris advised him to redesignate his command as a task force, divided into three distinct elements. The _Immortal Marauder_ served as the flagship and the nexus of command. The three Q-ships now formed a single squadron headed by Captain Long of the _Dunbatton_. As for the corvettes, they formed a single flotilla, though Harry hadn't decided who would lead that element.

Losses were negligible on his side, though some of his corvettes sometimes managed to bungle it up and sustained some level of battle damage. Since they would slow down the rest of the group, Harry reluctantly sent them back to Mining Base Cleopatra to repair and keep in reserve. As for the rest, the corvettes kept themselves in line. The mixed crew of pirates and hardcore Ioan soldiers did much to change attitudes and instill a level of obedience. The slave collars that each captured pirate wore also helped with discouraging betrayal.

Throughout the battles, the _Immortal Marauder_ hung back, letting Harry's more expendable forces do all the heavy lifting. The Q-ships all moved in clockwork precision and excellent coordination. The corvettes on the other hand were piloted by rowdy pirates, with no clue on the importance of sticking to formation and firing in unison. As soon as battle erupted, they flew in every direction. This chaos caused them to clutter the battlefield and allow a single swift corvette to escape and disappear in a field of thick dust.

Captain Claris palmed her face each time the corvettes lost control like that and muttered that it was hopeless to instill an adequate level of coordination. "In the corvette world, you survive by relying on your speed, agility and unpredictability. It's extremely difficult to deprogram that instinct once it's acquired. It also doesn't help that we haven't found a suitable leader for the corvette flotilla."

"Hm. We'll just have to treat them like a pack of dogs until we find someone reliable and capable enough to head the pirates." Harry muttered as he stared at the projector, willing another enemy to show up. "It's been two weeks already. Why haven't we encountered another patrol? This place is supposed to be crawling with corvettes."

"Whoever is in charge of this sector has probably changed tactics once he received a report from the corvette we let slip. If I were him, I would pull back all my patrols before they're lost and reconsider my approach."

'_Damnit, so the free ride is over. At least I got fifteen active corvettes with me if I don't count the three damaged ones.'_ Harry always wondered about the level of control the pirate leaders exerted in this region. The haphazard nature of the corvette patrols suggested that the high-ranking pirates didn't much care, but that was obviously proven wrong. "So there's a pirate boss in this sector who's in charge. How do you think he'll respond?"

His Second had to take a minute to run through the scenario. "Well, he knows a lot about your task force. The fact that our ship is part of it is cause enough for alarm. Admiral Black doesn't tolerate failures, and the Darwin Cluster is an important asset to the Ioan war effort, so he probably can't afford to retreat. His only choice therefore is to gather an overwhelming amount of firepower and go from there. I'm not sure what course of action he will take."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry turned to Claris. "Isn't it natural that he'll attack us?"

"Not.. necessarily.." She trailed off, looking more troubled every second. "If the intelligence reports are correct, there are about fifty to seventy corvettes still left in this sector, and the commander likely commands a more formidable vessel. That is enough to attack us outright or launch hit-and-run attacks, whittling away our weaker task force elements first. Still, the risk is large, and the attrition will be horrendous."

"I see. So he's seeking alternatives."

"Sir, remember that we're here to accomplish a mission. The pirate commander must also have a mission, but I'm not sure what it is. The captured crew don't know much about him, not even his identity. If his orders are to destroy Io's access to extra-solar materials, he might mass his forces at a mining base far from our current position and bull through the defenses there."

"If they wanted to destroy the bases, he would have already done so. There's no need to pussy around."

"You are correct, Harry." Claris nodded. "If his intention is to capture the bases intact and divert shipments to their own faction, then he will need to neutralize our numbers before they feel safe enough to hold this sector. He might also merely wish to halt shipments to Io, which he has been doing so far by preying on transports. It could be a prelude to an invasion, but it might also be the extent of Admiral Black's commitment to this sector."

That meant that Harry had to make a choice. If he was wrong, he might plunge this sector into ruin, causing Io to suffer a significant setback. "If the pirates are massing to attack our colonies, then we should turn back and defend them along with the privateers. Still, that means we're leaving the transports to fend for themselves if we're not out in the boonies hunting down the pirates. We don't know enough about our enemy to make a good decision."

The two of them puzzled over the issue for the rest of the day, or the days after. Even splitting up the Q-ships and letting them navigate the Outback with a covert escorts of corvettes weren't enough to elicit a surprise. After the task force converged at a rendez-vous point after a week of quiet travel, Harry decided they needed to change tack. _'If they aren't coming to us, we're going to them.'_

"Claris?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Call a conference. We need to discuss our next course of action. At this rate, the pirates are killing us with boredom."

"Lieutenant Kenzie, please make the arrangements." Claris ordered, then turned back to her tired master. "Do you want to conduct an electronic conference, or invite the captains to your ship?"

Come to think of it, Harry never met most of the captains in person. "I want to look at them in the face. It's time we get to know each other more. Invite them for a conference in one hour, and prepare a lavish banquet after the conclusion of the meeting."

Claris relayed the orders, but looked skeptical at the mention of a banquet. "Harry, it's ill-advised to keep your captains here for several hours. If the pirates happen to ambush us during the banquet, they won't be able to transfer safely back to their ships. We only have a limited number of shuttles at our disposal and they can easily be shot down."

Despite her stern warning, Harry waved away the concern. "If the pirates wanted to attack us, they would have already done so. I don't think they're lurking nearby, but.. Just to be sure, spread our corvettes over a greater area. Sortie our fighters as well and send them ahead."

That marginally eased Claris' concerns, but she still felt Harry was making a mistake. _'An electronic conference is much more convenient.' _Yet something else also made her feel ill at ease. _'Those captains Harry invited used to be my brothers and sisters. I wanted to be just like them, but now they'll greet me as their captor, a betrayer who sold out everything a pirate stood for in pursuit of greater ambition.'_

She found regretful that Harry chose to align himself with Io. If the powerful wizard still sided with the pirates, she had no doubt he would have made it far in the pirate circle and caused much ruin in the civilized world. _'We're fighting for the wrong side.'_

* * *

As Kenzie sent out the invitations, a couple of shifty captains sent back dubious messages explaining the reasons why they were not able to attend this session. Harry would have none of it, and shocked their collars remotely (31st century slavery is very efficient, he noted) until they acquiesced. The Q-ship captains – and Captain Long in particular – also expressed displeasure at the thought of mingling with uncouth pirates. While the irritated Commodore could not shock their necks like he could with his other subordinates, he nevertheless laid down the law and all-but-forced them to attend.

"Show some respect." Harry berated his squadron commander. "These are the people you rely on to cover your big fat asses. Now get over here and make sure to keep a smile on your face."

The grimace on Long's face turned sickly sweet. "Of course, Commodore. I shall be aboard your ship at the appointed time."

With that taken care of, Harry left the bridge for a shower and change of clothes. Even though all the vacsuits looked the same to his eyes, Star insisted there were differences, and that nuances mattered. After a soapy cleansing where he used his pet's body as a sponge, she picked the appropriate attire and programmed the running symbols into a pattern designed to show strength.

"You must appear strong and bold." Star explained as she helped zip up the suit while directing a hairbot to smooth out his – normally – implacable crow's nest. "The brighter your symbols, the further you can be seen if you happen to be sucked out in space. However, they also paint a bigger target. The frequency of the blinking and the speed at which they run down your suit also have similar effects."

"And the symbols themselves?" Harry asked as he stared down at his tacky getup. "They look like the sigils of a cartoon my cousin used to enjoy. Trans.. no Transformers or something."

"They are the stylized coat of arms of House Antares. Each significant member of the House has his or her own personal heraldic design. Even you have one, don't you know?"

"I do?" He said, looking quite pensive at the news. "Why the heck did no one inform me?"

"It should have been assigned to you the moment you married Lady Amande."

Oh. After thinking over it a few seconds, he remembered that he needed to sign a lot of paperwork immediately after his arrival on Io. He didn't think to read any of the junk pushed into his face. "Which one is mine?"

She pressed a maroon symbol on his arm, stopping it in place for Harry to see. The outer border was a diamond, and in the middle sat a gentle bird surrounded by laurel wreaths. "This is Amande's personal sigil. This specific shade is attributed to Io, while the laurels are a feature of her House. Now.."

Her fingers traced a bicolored symbol further up his arm. The outer edge of the symbol was still maroon, but the insides looked darker brown, almost black. Instead of a soft, rounded dove, his animal appeared to be a sharp-edged vulture, tearing a bit of flesh from a fallen corpse. Only one laurel wreath arced around his animal, as opposed to the customary two that Amande enjoyed. "I see that the House does not have a high opinion of me. A vulture? Really?"

The bleak smile Star afforded him did little to ease his annoyance. "A condor, it seems. They may not be as graceful as Lord Wellesley's eagle or Lady Anastasia's swan, but they are survivors. I have to say, this species fits you remarkably well, even if it was meant as a veiled insult."

The boy didn't much care for that. While these sigils didn't appear to be very important in his day-to-day business, it was still a marker that defined his identity. Those Antares lawyers should have asked what he wanted instead of making the decision for him. _'Those fucking snakes have a habit of screwing me over.'_

Associating himself with the House of Antares gave him so much trouble that he considered to part ways with them numerous times. Only the fact that he had nowhere else to go kept him from making the jump.

"Do not let it affect your pride, Harry." Star whispered to him soothingly, and went around his back to massage his shoulders. "Compared to the vast majority of people alive today, you wield an exceptional amount of power. You are rich. You inspire fear. You are unique. No one else in the solar system wields the magic you so rightly possess. You hold the power of life and death, and you have an army of thousands that follow your every whim. You are power incarnate."

While her words lifted up his mood, he still let out a sigh. "There are people who are richer than me. Scarier than me. Who command over an army that dwarfs my cobbled up task force." He then let out a cynical laugh. "And even my magic may not be so unique anymore."

As her fingers kneaded her master's tense muscles, Star continued talking. "There are always those surpass you in some measure, but you will find out they are more constrained as well. Admiral Wellesley commands a force that surpasses a thousand warships. Yet no matter his displeasure towards you, he cannot order even one of those ships to kill you. As a person of interest, you still maintain a degree of independence."

Harry had enough of the massage. He brushed his assistant away and stood up. "It matters little what I feel. We have work to do. Follow me and observe, but don't make a sound."

They left his quarters and went out to the conference room to meet every captain under Harry's command.

* * *

The pair arrived a little early for a change. Most of the chairs around the spacious oval conference table only seated empty air. Captain Claris was present, naturally, and chatted quietly in the corner with another female captain.

"Commodore Harry." She greeted him and called him over. "I'd like you to meet Captain Sainte-Marie."

He recognized the newcomer vaguely as the captain of the _Carthaginian_, though to be honest he never really paid attention to his corvette officers. Unlike most women, Sainte-Marie measured well against Claris' radiant beauty. Her dirty blond hair cascaded beautifully around a young and virginal face. The boy wondered deeply how such a girl could become a pirate captain, but his cyberoptic organ soon identified markers of artificial beauty enhancements. In other words, plastic surgery.

"Charmed." Sainte-Marie greeted with a gracious smile. She held out her delicate hand, and Harry couldn't help but be distracted by her sublime manicure. "I have been looking forward to meet you, Commodore."

"Likewise." Harry lied smoothly as he trailed his eyes up her artful bosom before settling on her face. "I know it's kind of rude, but I'm curious how you've reached the rank you hold today. Other female captains that I've met aren't as.. noticeable as you, madam."

Sainte-Marie let out a modest giggle. "Oh, I was just telling your Captain Claris that I used to be an executive officer, just like her. My former captain lived long enough until he met you. When you turned the tables on us and forced us to surrender, he wanted to try to ram the _Carthiginian_ against your cruiser. Of course, not everyone under him felt the same way, so I took care of him. Permanently."

The spunky captain kept her coy little smile throughout her little tale. _'This girl has spunk.'_ Harry evaluated her. _'If she just didn't look so long, I'd have promoted her to lead the corvette flotilla.'_

Soon enough, other captains entered the room. Not everyone looked very pleased to see each other. Harry expected that the corvette captains sneer at the Q-ship captains. What he didn't expect was pirates grumbling curses at each other. Claris noted the behavior and discretely contacted security. A steady presence of marines in full battle gear under Chief Cleveland provided a powerful incentive to behave.

"Everyone, please be seated." Star announced, playing the role of hostess.

To their credit, everyone took their seats with little fanfare. Harry sat at the center of the table, as dictated. Claris sat at his right-hand side, and Captain Long claimed his left. From there, the officers sat according to an unspoken rule that placed the senior officers closer to Harry. The boy was disappointed to see that Sainte-Marie sat at the most distant seat.

"Thank you for coming to this meeting. I'm glad that each of you has chosen to attend." That was pure bullshit, of course. A few captains were poignantly itching their necks, where their slave collars made a stark contrast to the harmony of their appearance. "Everyone knows that we have not been able to encounter new prey these past days. I have called you here to discuss an important decision: what we will do next. The final decision is mine and mine alone, but at this stage I'm open to suggestions."

Once Claris detailed her own analysis of the situation and lined out all the possible actions, the table erupted in conversation. The pirates had very little discipline and talked right passed each other. Order quickly needed to be restored before it turned to shouting. Harry pressed a button at the console in front of his table, causing everyone to cringe from a loud alarm.

"One person at a time, please. Raise your hand if you want to speak first."

A couple of very vigorous hands shot up into the air. Harry chose Captain Long to speak first, if only to get it over with. "You have something to add?"

The head of the Q-ship squadron nodded, and readied himself for his speech. "Yes, Commodore. I agree with Captain Claris that our enemy is changing his strategy in response to our presence. It is in my opinion that the pirates may be gathering for an overwhelming assault on our mining colonies. Right now we are misallocating our war assets if you consider Io's military disposition in the Darwin Sector. We should confer with the privateers who are currently defending the mining bases and swap out our duties. Let them go on anti-piracy patrols. We shall take over guard duty and await the inevitable assault."

A few objections sounded out but there were also words of support. Half of the pirates relished the opportunity for boring guard duty, thinking it's unlikely the pirate commander would actually stage a direct assault. The remaining pirates feared what such a battle entailed – after all, corvettes didn't fare so well in large fleet actions. The likely casualties that followed from such an engagement would fall disproportionally to the smaller ship classes.

"Our primary mission remains unchanged." Captain Quinn declared. "We should continue to bolster our numbers and try to capture more corvettes."

That was another consideration that Harry found important, but it didn't seem the pirates were going to play along. "Ms. Quinn, our orders are a bit dated by now. The pirates are on to us and they're unlikely to offer their corvettes piecemeal to us again. It's nice to be able to capture more vessels, but we should be looking for ways to secure this sector from capture and destruction."

"Standard protocol states that we should contact headquarters in Io for new directions."

"That is not advisable." Claris retorted with a sneer. "In order to signal the nearest communications beacon, we will have to boost our signal by a considerable factor. We'd be releasing a flare to every enemy in the sector where we are. We'd be stupid to call attention to our current location."

Quinn shrugged brazenly at Claris. "The time for secrecy is passed. If the pirates possess any decent brains, they already know the make-up of our task force. It is more important that we ask for new directions in order to act in accordance with Io's strategy."

"No." Harry declared, putting an end to Quinn's suggestion. To be honest, he rather enjoyed the freedom that he had right now. He didn't want to relinquish all that with new orders made by some stuffy analyst in some dark and tiny basement. "We are not going to contact Io at all until our mission is successful. We still have a mandate to complete. Now get back to the topic and discuss what we should do instead."

The discussion raged on for a little while after that as different captains argued the merits for continuing patrols to turning back to defend the mining bases. The argument slowly leaned towards pulling back, but after all the blowhards had their say, Captain Sainte-Marie stood up and introduced a new and radical suggestion.

The slim woman stood up and met everyone's curious eyes. "Sirs, I believe we haven't considered all our options yet. The choices presented to us so far are mired with uncertainty. Should we choose to maintain our pattern, we might never encounter another pirate vessel again. Our task force has grown to such a size that we cannot effectively mask our heat signatures anymore, and every pirate in the Outback probably knows not to be fooled by our attempts to pass off as an understrength convoy."

"So you're arguing we should pull back our patrols?"

"No." Sainte-Marie shook her head, and her long curls swayed in just the right way. "It is not certain the pirate commander wishes to capture or destroy the Ioan mining facilities. You know as well as I do how many of our fellow corvettes are active in this sector. They'd be stupid to engage us directly. Should we choose to defend the mining bases, our former colleagues are instead free to raid the shipping lanes that we have bequeathed to them. Is that what we want to do for the rest of the war? Stay back and do nothing?"

"At least we'll be safe." Someone grumbled, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the fellow.

Then came Sainte-Marie's novel suggestion. "Instead of considering these highly uncertain actions, we should instead try to do something that we possess a reasonable degree of intelligence. We should attack Hancock Outpost."

'_Huh?'_ Harry wondered, never having heard of a Hancock Outpost before except in passing, but the mere mention of it erupted a flurry of objections from the pirates.

"Think about it. So far, we keep guessing the whereabouts of the enemy. They can be anywhere in this giant area, constantly moving behind an impenetrable field of asteroids. Instead of chasing after ghosts, we can attack the outpost directly and take away the pirates' nearest staging area in this sector. Io's mining colonies can breathe easier and we can push forward, deeper into enemy territory and raid more resources."

It was a bold plan that immediately caught Harry's imagination, but somehow a disturbing amount of pirates were opposed to the idea. Captain Claris leaned forward and whispered why.

"A lot of your captives don't think they'll stay under your shackles. Should something happen to you, they'll run and go back to their former habitats. Until they can do that, they want to keep their options open. Should they be involved in a direct attack against Admiral Black's forces, they'll burn their bridges with him and they can never change sides again."

Figures. Harry scowled a little as the craven pirates continued to plead for more passive alternatives. He turned back to Claris. "Then let's make sure they torch that bridge as soon as possible."

He sat back and let the pirates continue whining in order to give the process a veneer of deliberation. He could have announced his decision right then and there, but that would probably give rise to the accusation that this conference was a charade. He had been around self-important officers long enough to know that they needed to puff up their chests and vent out their self-important opinions.

Remarkably, Captain Sainte-Marie held up well under the scrutiny she attracted, even swaying some doubtful captains to support her course of action. Harry grew curious about her and her background. Like Claris, Sainte-Marie appeared to be too competent for her profession. Unlike his Second however, Sainte-Marie did not have that hard-edged military bearing. _'A civilian then. Perhaps a scholar like Selner and Zhang?'_ The blond's vocabulary and logical reasoning supported that impression.

Though the conversation threatened to last forever, Harry eventually ran out of patience. He slammed his fist against the table to silence the current argument. "Enough! You've been recycling the same arguments over and over. However, we can probably guess that the pirates will keep evading us as long as they have an area to refuel and rearm. If they come to attack us, it will only be when they have decisive advantage. We shouldn't let give them time to acquire one. Therefore, I have made my decision, and it is as follows: we will make preparations to attack this Hancock Outpost. It doesn't matter if we expose our mining colonies to attack. That is a risk that I am prepared to take."

The discussion quickly ended after that. Harry had heard all the counterarguments before and he didn't tolerate another session of useless questioning. After taking care of a few minor details, the conference wrapped up, and Star clapped her hands to call the tired captains to attention once again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the banquet is prepared. If you will come this way, I will lead you to the dining room."

Everyone stood up to leave the room. A lot of the captains still grumbled about Harry's decision, but didn't have the spine to let their opinions known. Sainte-Marie flowed forward and gave her superior a grateful smile. "Thank you for accepting my suggestion."

"It was a sound one, and miles better than what we previously considered." Harry shrugged. "I know quite well the real reason why most of your fellow captains objected. I can't let this hang over their heads for much longer."

* * *

The rest of the evening passed amicably. No one regurgitated the arguments made in the conference room, recognizing this wasn't the time and place to do so. Harry went out his way to enjoy himself and he got to know a few other corvette captains besides Sainte-Marie.

As for his Second, Claris was in her element. As the captain of the most powerful ship in the task force, she commanded nearly as much attention as Harry himself, and she milked it for all it was worth. Her vicious charm put the likeminded corvette captains at ease, dispelling the notion that the power they served abhorred the principles of might and ferocity. As more dishes came and went, the pirates' misconceptions were swept away, and by the time the lavish dinner came to a close, they parted ways with enlightened minds.

Only Captain Long and the rest of the Q-ships captains refused to go along with the distasteful notion of cozying up with former criminals. They came up to Harry as he shook every captain's hand.

"You are playing a dangerous game here." Captain Long said as he gripped Harry's palm in an unrelenting grip. "These rabble here are our tools. Do not loosen your grip on them in your attempt to befriend these filth."

Harry didn't pretend to smile at that point. "You might surprise yourself how useful filth can be."

Once everyone left, he ordered his task force to set a new course. Claris ordered a shift in formation. Instead of trolling for pirates, she chose a configuration that provided a high degree of concentration and overlapping angles of fire. While this inevitably reduced their stealth due to the closer proximity of engines, it was a worthwhile tradeoff.

And so the task force shouldered forward, coming to an inevitable collision with the local pirate stronghold. A day or two passed while the _Immortal Marauder_ and every other ship under Harry's command changed their configurations from capturing warships to besieging a fortified base. Even the Maddie herself went through some changes. Crews put the nEMP torpedoes back in storage and readied the supertorpedoes.

However, when Harry received word of what was happening at the stern, he summoned Claris.

"Yes sir?"

"Why are we preparing the supertorpedoes?"

She frowned at that question. "So we can destroy the pirate outpost, sir. Our broadsides of varilasers are too weak to penetrate the reinforced shells of most asteroid bases, and from what we've gathered so far from the corvettes, Hancock can withstand Class IX impacts quite well. The only chance we have of breaking open that egg is to use our most destructive arsenal."

"I thought my intentions were quite clear." Harry stated, and leaned against the bulkhead while crossing his arms. "What use do I have with an outpost blown to pieces? Did you think we're going to stop once we destroy the Hancock base?"

"Sir.. surely you can't mean.. it's too dangerous.. the risks are.."

Harry's grin turned positively feral. "I intend to do exactly what you're afraid of. I want to capture the entire outpost as intact as possible, an use it as a springboard to expand my operations beyond the Darwin Cluster. I want to capture more ships, and clearly we can't keep doing that if we stay within the confines set out by that bastard Directory Stanley."

"Word will get out." Claris whispered, still in shock at the announcement. "You can't expect Stanley or Lady Anastasia to endorse your course of action. If they don't already try to call you back, you can be sure that the pirates will take you very seriously. Admiral Black is not someone who ignores a challenge. He will send out his premiere troops to crush you beneath his boot. These won't be the pitiful corvettes that fall silent after a few blasts of nEMP. He'll send the likes of Captain Gloria or even Captain Grey after you and swamp you with numbers."

Her concerns were valid, Harry admitted, but he refused to end his ambition here. "Claris, you're a bit shortsighted here. We can achieve so much more if we just keep going. We might face tougher opponents, yes, but remember that we have the advantage of magic. With our unique talents, they can't hope to kill off the Maddie."

The woman released an exasperated breath. She knew the wizard well enough to see that he had made up his mind. "Very well, sir. I'll inform the rest of your clarification."

'_Reckless. Too reckless.'_ Claris cursed as she wormed her way back to the bridge. While she admitted to herself that she had become enamored with Harry due to his bold ambition, in some cases he went too far even for her. While Harry had gained a remarkable amount of success with his daring decisions, his winning streak wasn't always consistent.

In a large and comprehensive operation such as capturing an outpost, there were no easy solutions. The typical weapon emplacements protecting such a base were devastating beam lasers that could shunt their prodigious heat into an entire asteroid. These facilities were also hardened against nEMP, making it difficult for anything else but nEMP torpedoes to disable. Yet even with all the speed enhancements Harry's magic granted the projectiles, the defenders still possessed ample opportunity to shoot them down. _'No matter what will happen, we will suffer casualties.'_

As it turned out, Claris' qualms proved correct.

* * *

**End Notes: **No comment.


	58. II: A Turn for the Worse

February 18, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: Recently, I've started to look a little more seriously into self-publishing. I've read a dozen or more self-published science-fiction and fantasy novels and it definitely looks something I can do. Of course, there's much more to the process than whipping up a draft, and my editing skills suck. I know enough about writing prose to admit that my grammar sucks and that I tell far too much. I've got a lot of work ahead of myself before I can get a good novel out.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_A Turn for the Worse_

* * *

A quiet chimney stuffed into a disused closet flared to life. The dark room instantly lighted in a vivid shade of green that spewed unnaturally from the fireplace. The Floo node then spat out a single wizard. He stared back at the burning green flame and waited until it shut down. _'Looks like Professor Zhang is right. We used a bucket load of Floo powder and all that got us is ten or so seconds of travel.'_

This had some worrying implications for the future of Floo travel. Zhang had spent many quiet weeks experimenting with the Floo network. In addition to a standard-sized set of chimneys, he also constructed two different pairs of more extreme sizes. First were the huge, truck-sized portals, which were intended to transport cargo containers from Firestorm Shipyards to the cargo hold of the _Immortal Marauder_. The second pair consisted of finger-sized contraptions which were just small enough to let a secure datacube through for the purpose of exchanging sensitive information.

What Zhang had found out when he tried out the different chimneys was that distance not only had a proportional effect on the 'burn rate' of Floo powder, the size of the chimneys also had an effect. The larger the chimneys, the more powder they consumed. The trouble was that unlike distance, the relationship between the size of the chimney and the Floo powder consumed had a quadratic relationship instead of a linear one. All this meant that it was prohibitively expensive to use the cargo-sized portals. Zhang's calculations produced a dismal picture to Harry. With his current reserves, he could only use the cargo portal thrice before exhausting this year's harvest. While he already made more Floo plant farms, he wasn't able to accelerate their growth. _'I'll have to wait until next year before they become available.'_

After the excitement died down, Harry navigated to the nearby door and entered a security code to unlock it and check if there weren't any uninvited guests on the other side. As the door shifted up, he walked right into his apartment's living room. "I'm home."

Lady Amande looked up from the financial data she had been inspecting and looked up in disbelief. "What..?"

"The Floo network, remember? I thought I'd come visit you."

"Well.. this is an unexpected surprise.." She said hesitantly, and quietly shut off the datapads. "But I'm sure Illana will be pleased to see you again. She misses you lots."

As if on cue, the door to their daughter's bedroom exploded open, letting an excited kid run through with open arms. "Daddy!"

Smiling, Harry smoothly scooped the little girl in his arm. "I've missed you too. Have you been napping?"

She nodded vigorously. "I can do magic, daddy! I wished you were here, and now you're here!"

He let out an indulgent laugh and rubbed her back. "Magic can do many wonderful things."

After the initial surprise of Harry's arrival died down, the entire family sat on the couch. Illana sat contently in the middle, momentarily distracted by a cartoon from the apartment's media projector. Amande on the other hand looked somewhat apprehensive at her husband's unannounced arrival.

"I take it you're not here for a social visit, are you?"

He let out a tired breath. "I wish it were so. I've got something big cooked up. It's very risky, so I wanted to see you two at least once again. I'm also here to ask you for some help."

"What is it you want, dear?"

"Equipment, mostly." Harry answered, and passed over an encrypted datacube. "Not the usual stuff we have in our stores. This stuff's special. I need you to order them off the markets discretely in order to avoid attracting attention. Once you gather what I want, send them through the portal in two containers at the designated time. Can you do that, Amande?"

"Oh, please. Who do you think you're talking to? Of course I can take care of your shopping." Her smile turned into a frown, then. "Will you tell me what you're up to? All of this sounds a little worrying? Weren't you supposed to hunt pirates or something?"

"You'll figure it out when you see the list of items I've requested. I don't want to tell it to you plainly because I don't want word of it getting out. The less your family knows, the better."'

That signaled to Amande that Harry was up to no good. She wanted to question him further, but mindful of her daughter, she instead turned to more pleasant matters. "Little Illana is getting better at reading people's minds. She can pick up their thoughts from further away."

'_That's unexpected.' _Harry thought, both of the change of subject and the nature of the former psi-ops girl's growth. "From what I know, you need good eye contact in order to conduct Legilimancy. It doesn't work as well if you can't see the other person's pupils."

Instead of answering Harry directly, Amande instead lifted Illana onto her lap and wrapped her hands over her wondering eyes. "Let's play that game again, baby. Can you tell me what Daddy is thinking?"

The girl scrunched her mouth and picked at her nose. "Umm.. Dumbledore? Twinkly eyes?"

"How the hell?" Harry muttered, amazed at the ease at which she slipped into his head. This time, even when he raised his admittedly pathetic mental barriers, he couldn't feel anyone entering his mind at all. For a three-year old girl, her amazing mental growth was plainly worrisome. "This is too fast. No child of her age should be able to do this much."

Unfortunately, Illana read Harry's darkening mood and misunderstood his intent. Amande looked down in alarm as she felt tears brush her palms. "What's wrong, baby?"

The girl erupted into tears, and turned around to hug Amande tightly. "Daddy's scared of me! He doesn't want me anymore!"

For some reason, Illana's rejection hurt Harry in a deep and heart-wrenching fashion. It was if his heart stopped and refused to beat any further unless he made amends. "Illana.. that's not true. I'm scared for you, not at you. I still love you as my daughter."

"Promise you love me."

"Of course I do. I can't imagine a moment where I wouldn't love you. Even when I'm out at work in space, I think of you every day, thinking of your smile."

Harry opened up his mind and invited Illana to see his cherished few moments together with the girl. He didn't have as much memories as he would have liked, but each one of those moments brought a measure of genuine joy that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. It didn't shame him one inch to admit that Illana had become part of his life, a reason to wake up each day and face the solar system with a smile. From her growing smile, Illana had been convinced of Harry's sincere feelings of love.

"I would do anything for you, baby." Harry stated and messed up her carefully brushed hair. "There's nothing in the universe that I wouldn't give to make you happy."

Illana looked speculatively at him. "Can I have a little brother?"

Both parents looked at her in shock. Amande laughed a little embarrassingly. She stood up and lifted her baby into her arms. "Maybe. First I think you need a bath, young lady."

"Yay! Bath time!"

While she carried Illana to the apartment's luxurious bathroom, she gave Harry a silent stare that told him not to talk about this issue any further. Harry agreed, finding the topic too awkward for the moment. He hadn't considered it at all. Merlin knew how many progeny he already had. He had no particular wish to add one more child to his name, even if this time the boy or girl would be a legitimate heir. And that brought him another set of complications, since his first natural-born child with Amande would be intricately woven into the politics of House Antares.

Later, after bath, dinner and an hour of play time, Harry and Amande tucked their girl into bed. Illana's sleepy eyes fixated on the person who she came to regard as her father. She yawned, but before slept overcame her, she made a final plea. "Don't leave."

"I'll only be away for a little while." He said, hoping she would believe him. From her contented smile, she evidently did. Amande and Harry quietly left her happy room.

"I think it's time for me to go now." Harry said awkwardly, and opened the hidden door that led into the Floo room. He took hold of a bucket and prepared to pitch it into the fireplace.

Amande came inside to watch him go. "You know Harry, perhaps we can do Illana a favor."

'_Hm?'_ The boy stared back, comprehension slowly dawning. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I don't think we're quite ready for children yet."

"We already have a child, Harry. What's one more?"

"You know quite well that an adoption is different." Though Harry groped for the right way to put his unease into words. "Besides, do you think you're ready for me to stick my cock in you?"

His crude remark caused her to flare in anger. "Don't you use that language against me! And you're wrong. I'm not the one who's ready, it's you!"

His wife stomped out of the room, leaving Harry alone with a bucket of Floo powder. Eventually he just shrugged, and travelled back to his ship.

* * *

Harry's little armada hadn't stayed idle during his absence, and since his return the crew worked at the same frenetic pace. No one in the task force was ignorant of the risks their next operation posed, and many preparations needed to be done in order to provide them with the best chance of survival. As the largest and most complex vessel in the fleet, the indomitable _Immortal Marauder_ hosted the most activity.

Down at the hangar bay, Commander Cyrus supervised a refit of all six strike craft in order to optimize them for anti-missile and anti-fighter duty. Their role in the upcoming battle was to screen the Maddie against counter-attacks. Sending them into a bombing run against the pirate outpost directly was out of the question. They just didn't have the weight of numbers required to make it close enough.

And that basically summed up the problem for Harry's entire force. A base assault was a perilous endeavor even in the best of circumstances, mostly because they were not subject to some of the constraints that spaceships suffered. Bases embedded into asteroids had the distinct advantage of being capable of absorbing enormous amounts of heat, which made energy-hungry beam lasers viable to use in their defense. According to the pirates who used Hancock base as a staging post, the pirate stronghold featured two twin-barreled Class IX beam laser turrets. These cruiser-grade hardpoints had enough firepower to drill through even the _Marauder_'s enhanced hull plating given enough time to do so. As for the other ships, they stood no chance at all. Even if the beam turrets needed to pause in their burn to shunt off excess heat, they were still capable of tearing Harry's entire force into pieces.

That made a direct assault a foolish undertaking. That was why Claris and the other captains planned to attack Hancock by securing the rear, the other side of the egg-shaped asteroid, and drill right through to the lower floor of the base's interior. There wasn't any guarantee that this could work, as the pirates may possess any number of counter-measures. This also ignored the fact that there may be a large amount of ships in the vicinity which, in sufficient quantities, may repel a rear assault.

The Maddie therefore prepared for the worst. The engineering team focused on ways to redirect large amounts of heat, while the marines trained in base assaults in the event they succeeded in reaching the interior of Hancock base. For this particular operation, Professor Zhang devised something new that might make a boarding action easier. Chief Cleveland and Sergeant Castia answered his summons and went down to the torpedo bay to see this latest invention.

"I spent my spare time tinkering over this with the help of the torpedo technicians." Zhang explained as he patted a large, black torpedo. "The parts are easy enough to get. It just took a lot of time trying to integrate Harry's so-called portkey deep enough inside to shield it against outside effects and disgorge it in a safe area. But if it works, it will change the nature of boarding warfare."

Cleveland could believe the boast, as he had experienced portkey travel himself once before. Back then, Harry haphazardly enchanted a piece of shrapnel. "How fast is it? And how can we be sure we'll be teleported in a safe enough area?"

"It's unimaginably fast. Forgoing human passengers allows us to forgo inertial dampening and use up all that space into improving the torpedo's propulsion. When Harry casts his standard set of weigh-reducing and speed enhancement magic, it will out-accelerate every powered projectile ever constructed, though I can't exactly pin down an exact figure. As for deployment, the torpedo is able to disgorge several portkeys from different ports along the torpedo. Local cameras mounted on the surface will allow us to manually choose the most optimal destination."

It all sounded very impressive, though the complexity concerned the marines. While the invention did take away a lot of the risk – better a shot-down torpedo than a destroyed boarding capsule – he wasn't so sure about the initial entry. Suppose the portkey floated away into deep space, or ended next to a heat hazard. He might be sending his marines to their deaths. Yet these same risks existed for conventional boarding capsules. If he had to choose between using this new delivery system and the old and tried capsules, he would go for this novelty in an instant.

"This is a useful device, I give you that." Cleveland complimented the proud professor. "However, I'd feel much better if you try to improve its security. Men's lives depends on it, so we owe it to them to do this right."

The group fell into a discussion on how to improve the tentatively named 'delivery torpedo.' And so on it went throughout the Maddie. Everyone worked in unison to improve the odds of success. Only a handful of people aboard the _Marauder_ stood by while the rest prepared for war.

"Monkeys." Selner shook her head as she sat solemnly in the med bay.

Doctor Scranton looked up from the journal he was leisurely reading. "Pardon?"

"The entire crew is nothing more than a tribe of stupid monkeys. They're all sharpening their paltry wooden sticks and primitive stones to attack another bunch of monkeys with bigger sticks and stones."

The old doctor grunted, then smirked at his colleague. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but homo sapiens are also primates. The only attributes that separate us from the monkeys we keep in zoos is that we walk a little straighter and we don't have a lot of body hair. Besides those tiny differences, we share much of the same instincts."

And so it went on in other sections of the ship. Down at the broadsides, Felicity, now a lieutenant-commander, continually tinkered with the varilaser armament in order to squeeze out the maximum amount of efficiency. Down at engines, Lieutenant-Commander Menzies concerned himself with making sure the engines were up to the task to handle extreme bursts of acceleration. He wanted to give Captain Claris plenty of tactical opportunities.

"I think we can push our acceleration even higher, now that we know how the ship performed in earlier magically enhanced maneuvers."

Claris looked down at her personal datapad – an elegant piece of transparent glass – and analyzed the projections the engineering department churned during simulations. She crossed her free hand over to the arm holding the pad, thereby subtly lifting up her breasts. Menzies stared as discretely as he could while maintaining the façade of a dignified officer.

"This is a thirty-five percent jump from our previous maximum. Are you sure the ship can withstand the strain?"

"Yes ma'm. Earlier projections included a hefty safety margin because we assumed the mass-altering charms might alter the distribution of structural stresses to sections that weren't built to cope with that much strain. After analyzing the Maddie's actual performance during such high accelerations, it turns out changes are modest. We've reinforced those sections during our latest refit, so the Maddie should be able to sustain an extreme acceleration for at least ten or so minutes."

"And if we burn any longer than that?" Claris asked, tapping a nail against the stop where the charts began to redline.

The man gulped as he saw Claris' bosom jiggle ever so slightly as the tapping motion continued. "Our ship will begin to break apart, slowly. Our weakest compartments will collapse or lose compression. Casualties will fall. Worst case, our explosive munitions might blow up, tearing up the Maddie from the inside. I don't recommend we sustain this acceleration for more than twenty minutes. The risks will cascade quickly after that point, captain."

"I see." To Menzies' almost evident disappointed, she unfurled her hands and put away the datapad. "Write up a full report detailing the likely consequences of a maximum burn at different durations, from one minute to thirty minutes."

"Yes ma'm." The lieutenant-commander saluted, staring after Claris' slim and mesmerizing ass.

Unseen by the hapless engineering officer, Claris smirked at the effect she had on Menzies. She knew full well how far his perversions extended, and she wielded his attraction to her like a familiar dance partner. As long as she had him wrapped around her finger, she could rely on him to stay loyal to her. While she enjoyed teasing her subordinates and letting them glimpse a tiny portion of her beauty, she still had eyes on only her master. Everyone else was trash. _'You can look but you can't touch.'_

* * *

All things aside, the crew of the _Immortal Marauder_ made decent progress by the time they arrived in the vicinity of Hancock outpost. The local area around Hancock could be described as a plateau devoid of other large rocks. This presented Harry with his first, immediately problem.

"It's an open field out there." Claris noted as she made her own assessment. "Hancock's beam lasers have a clear view of fire."

That meant that approaching the base from the front was basically suicide. There were no obstacles in the way to provide any meaningful cover.

"We should approach the base from the rear, then." Harry stated. "Though there's a bit more defenders here than I'd like."

Indeed, the base was a hub of regional activity. While Harry's worst fear that the entire pirate armada gathered at the outpost didn't come to pass, there were still plenty of other vessels hanging about while they unloaded cargo or underwent maintenance and repair.

"How many enemy ships have we detected?"

Kenzie took a few moments to compile the different readings. "Umm.. our sensors have identified at least eighteen corvettes, six of which are under repair and probably can't sortie. However.. we've also detected two mobile carriers and three frigates."

That sounded worrisome to Harry. "The _Marauder_ can probably destroy all the smaller ships easily enough if they just sit in space, but I doubt they'll do that."

Claris concurred. "The frigates and mobile carriers are nimble and troublesome to close in with our cruiser. The Q-ships probably can't match their acceleration either. That leaves only the corvettes, but I don't think it's a good idea to let them chase those ships."

The tactical situation already gave Harry headaches. "We'll need to destroy the frigates and mobile in order to get a clear shot at the outpost. I can't see any other way we can succeed if we let those ships alive. For the corvettes, it's probably enough to scatter them. I doubt they'd try something stupid if they don't have any big boys backing up their asses."

"Well, besides the frigates, we haven't found anything unexpected. I'll have to refine our plan to take into account the most up-to-date circumstances, but to my guess, we can still proceed as planned."

"Very well." Harry nodded, trusting Claris' judgment. "Navigator, please set a course around the pirate base so we'll be facing the rear of the asteroid."

"Will do, sir." Jennings replied, having already plotted a suitable course.

Lieutenant Kenzie perked up. "Sir, we're detecting some specific emissions from the base. They're actively scanning for us. It's safe to say they know we're out here."

"Well, we can't hope to get everything in our favor. Without something like the Sahara, our ships are pretty hard to hide."

It took many hours of careful maneuvering to navigate the perilous asteroid field around the base. The crews of Harry's vessels used that time to make their final preparations, making sure each and every one of them had a good rest before gearing themselves up.

The pirates did the same. They exploded into action, putting up as much ships in the air despite their state of disrepair. Soon enough they organized into a single, cohesive unit, a swarm of corvettes surrounding their larger brothers. The frigates and mobile corvettes then led the way, moving along the surface of the asteroid until they reached the opposite side. Upon reaching that point, they stopped, and silently awaited Harry's approach.

A tense few moments passed as the _Immortal Marauder_ and her escorts lined up for an attack. Claris opted to use an arrow formation for this attack, putting the Maddie at the very tip to attract the highest amount of firepower. The three Q-ships ringed around her, providing additional fire support while covering the flanks. The corvettes in the meanwhile trailed behind, able to contribute only a small amount of long-range fire, but safeguarding them from most attacks.

The stage was set once Harry entered the bridge geared in his custom suit of battle armor. He intended to lead the assault of the base on foot once they found a way to breach inside. But before he gave the word, he made one sudden decision.

"Ms. Kenzie, can you please open a channel to Sainte-Marie's ship? I forgot the name of the vessel.."

The young comm officer found it easily enough. "It's the _Cartheginian,_ sir. She's accepted the request. Opening the channel now."

"Ah, Commodore Harry. What can I do for you?"

The boy stared appreciatively at Sainte-Marie, wearing a suit of boarding armor that quite obviously emphasized her curves. "When I met you, I was impressed by your intelligence and courage. I've thought over the matter quite carefully, and I decided you're the best person to lead my corvette flotilla. Don't you agree?"

Sainte-Marie clearly hadn't expected the offer. "Sir? Are you certain? Some of the other captains have much more experience, and I'm the least senior captain in your task force. They won't take me seriously."

"I don't care. Out of all the bunch I've met so far, you're the only one who tries to work with me instead of trying to play the odds. Frankly, you're the only pirate I'm willing to trust with this responsibility." Harry halted a little, then fiddled with his command console. "If you need any help with asserting your authority, then I'll give you the permission to shock their necks."

That was a serious transfer of power, and both of them knew it. Sainte-Marie nodded ever so slightly. "Thank you, sir. I'll try not to screw it up."

"See that you do." He said, and the transmission cut off.

Eventually, every ship signaled that they were ready. Kenzie opened a simultaneous transmission to all the ships in the task force. Harry stood up and slashed his arm forwards. "Commence the operation!"

* * *

As soon as Harry gave the order, his ships surged forward, leaving the safety of the surrounding rocks to engage the large asteroid floating in the middle. As if buckling in response, the pirate vessels boosted backwards, as if looking for a way out. Harry smelled blood.

"Fire a volley of energy weapons as soon as we're in range. Let's shock them into running away!"

Already it appeared that the enemy corvettes were starting to consider escape. Whoever led the defense there probably worked his ass off trying to keep his herd in line. Others started to fire ragged patterns of pulse bolts. At this distance, they had no chance of hitting anything, and even if they did, the damage was virtually negligible due to dispersion.

He almost couldn't believe it. The pirates were freaking out even before the first proper exchange of fire. Only belatedly did a pair of frigates fire off simultaneous volley of Streaker missiles at the Q-ships. The _Immortal Marauder _and the Q-ship's combined point-defense fire annihilated the missiles with disgusting in the absence of any other targets.

Once Harry's task force reached the half-way point, everything changed.

"Captain!" Kenzie shrieked, throwing off her hearing gear. "Our sensors are detecting a series of massive heat emissions around the asteroid!"

Claris immediately pulled up a visual display. The rock began to light up at several points along her surface. "What..? Are the pirates blowing them up?"

The shuddering certainly suggested that possibility, though it soon dawned on them that they had much worse in mind.

"The asteroid.. it's starting to spin.. they're turning it around!"

To everyone's disbelief, huge thrusters hidden under the surface of the rock intensified their burn. They lighted up in blinding brilliance, just enough to impart a modest spin. The asteroid base was slowly but surely spinning in the direction of Harry's vulnerable task force.

"Commodore," Claris prompted, shaking him away from the ridiculous display of power. "We have to make a decision now: shall we continue our assault, or turn back and retreat? Mind you, it will take us a significant amount of time to reverse our momentum and turn back. We'll be exposed to the beam lasers throughout our retreat."

The boy shook his head. "We won't turn our backs. Not now. I'm not going to suffer casualties without a reason. Continue our assault and ready the supertorpedoes."

"Do you want to alter our formation? As it stands, our ship will probably take the brunt of the fire."

The _Immortal Marauder_ could take a punch, something that couldn't be said for her escort. "Maintain our formation. Make sure the other ships don't attract too much attention."

The gigantic asteroid – a quarter way into turning around – loomed ominously before his projector, but he faced it with as much courage as he could muster. The size of the rock didn't matter. Only the beam lasers needed to be destroyed in order to neuter the pirates of their principal weapons. Even as the enemy pirates dropped their ruse and reconstituted their formation, Harry's ships closed the distance, entering well into effective range.

"Show broadsides!"

All ships except for the Q-ships turned around even as they continued to fling forwards, and presented their weapon ports to the enemy.

"Fire broadside and spin to present our other guns!"

The ship shuddered only lightly even as it discharged a destructive amount of energy. The varilaser pulses that spat out from the Class IX turrets streaked rapidly towards the enemy, followed by many smaller bolts from the escorts. At this distance, the pirate vessels were quite effective at dodging the volley. The frigates and mobile carriers evaded even as they launched their own smaller volleys. A couple of unlucky corvettes received only a few glancing blows. Not one of the enemy ships suffered any significant damage.

Meanwhile, the asteroid had already turned halfway.

Eager to finish off the enemy's mobile elements, Claris growled as soon as her ships finished turning. "Fire our fresh broadside and spin!"

This time, they struck hard. Some of the Maddie's devastating pulses slammed home in a mobile carrier. The incredible weight of that volley crumpled the carrier's thin armor and instantly tore a swathe of devastation in the interior. The bolts instantly vaporized dozens of pirates, and those who survived the initial blast were killed by aftereffects such as secondary explosions or sudden decompressions.

The Q-ships also achieved a moderate amount of success. They focused their fire on one single frigate, and while most of their bolts missed due to their target's nimble dodging, it couldn't escape the entire barrage. A fortunate hits ruined the spaceship's engines, causing it to flutter out of formation.

"Kenzie, order the Q-ships to target the other frigates. Let the corvettes finish off the sitting duck."

The pirates continued to retreat from their onslaught, but that was scant consolation for Harry. In a few moments, the enemy would be returning their fair share of pain. Claris soon noticed something peculiar.

"The asteroid.. it's not counter-acting its spin. They're.. they're planning to hit-and-shield!"

"What?" Harry asked, unfamiliar with the term she just used. "What's hit-and-spin?"

"It's similar to hit-and-run tactics. The principles are the same." She explained quickly. "In some of our previous battles, we've seen ships that align their broadside to the enemy for a second, then spin to present their armored roof or bottom at the enemy to absorb enemy counter-fire. The asteroid is basically doing the same, but slower, giving the beam lasers enough time to shunt off all the accumulated heat to be able to fire another sustained beam on the next spin."

The implications of that tactic slowly dawned on Harry. "We need to destroy those beam lasers _now_!"

Claris was just about to order the task force to fire their supertorpedoes when the enemy base finally gained a clear angle. One of the massive turrets swiveled around and tracked the _Immortal Marauder_ with disturbing precision. The other turret chose a different target. At an unseen order, they fired simultaneously.

The beam lasers lit up the local space with scorching intensity. For some reason, one pair of lasers homed in on the _Fairweather_. Captain Orlov's ship might be large, she only boasted frigate-grade armor. Two Class IX beam lasers pierced the inadequate armor rather easily, an even as the ship began to turn on her heels to spread the damage, the only result was that the beam lasers peeled open the helpless ship like a potato. The only consolation to Orlov's doomed ship was that she was able to fire her twin torpedoes in time along with her sister ships. Six individual supertorpedoes peppered forward with bursts of staccato acceleration.

Another pair of twin blasts impacted the _Marauder_'s armored nose, and the heat-dissipation charms Harry had cast worked up to their limits to mitigate the fury. If the beam only lasted a few seconds, the Maddie might have been able to escape unscathed. Yet with the entire asteroid acting as a heat sink, the beam could be sustained for many more seconds than normal.

Helmsman Nicholas chose to spin the _Marauder_ around even before Claris gave the order. The action likely saved the ship from total collapse, as the ship's prodigious size allowed her to spread out the heat along her entire surface.

"Can we fire our torpedo in this condition?" Claris inquired with clenched teeth.

"Not in this condition. Our aft needs to be aligned towards the asteroid in order to present a launch opportunity."

That was far too risky, considering their current circumstances. Presenting their rear towards the enemy lasers allowed it to wreak havoc against the _Marauder_'s relatively fragile engines. Claris chose to bear the brunt for now, hoping that the six torpedoes already in flight would be sufficient.

"Thirty seconds to impact!"

"Our outer armor is starting to melt! The inner armor plating can't take as much strain!"

"Hull breach on deck seven! Two compartments have lost compression!"

"Make sure our magical safeguards have activated! Order everyone near those compartments to escape into a pocket dimension!"

"Fifteen seconds to impact! Two torpedoes have been shot down!"

Hancock base featured more than just two devastating beam lasers. Several arrays of point-defense turrets spewed rapid pulses towards the torpedoes, and though the projectiles were too tough to be destroyed in one hit, a few sustained bursts succeeded in triggering the explosions early, clustering the surrounding sky with an expanding cloud of secondary explosions.

"The beam lasers have just stopped firing!" An officer announced with a heavy dose of relief.

Claris didn't look happy at that. "The pirates are shielding their primary weapon emplacements."

Then, obscured from their sight, the remaining torpedoes hit home.

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	59. II: Half a Victory

February 20, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Half a Victory_

* * *

Hidden by the cloud of premature detonations, Hancock base writhed from the impact of one or more supertorpedoes. the crew of the _Immortal Marauder_ waited with baiting breath how much damage their task force had caused. Of the six supertorpedoes that the Q-ships had launched, at least three detonated too early. Kenzie worked frantically to clear up the sensor noise, and only after twenty seconds did she gain sufficient clarity.

"Detecting heat signatures consistent with explosions on the surface of the asteroid!" She announced, and the bridge crew let out a ragged cheer.

Captain Claris did not cheer with the rest, however. As a sensor specialist herself, she took Kenzie's work and refined it even further. "Only one supertorpedo managed to detonate."

The announcement stilled the euphoria.

"Only one of the beam turrets is affected. We have to assume the other one is still operable. Flip us around and fire our loaded supertorpedo and prepare another one!"

With no beam lasers boring down on her hull, the _Marauder_ was finally able to flip around and fire her aft torpedo. The single supertorpedo chugged forward. Four supertorpedoes from the _Laurentine II _and _Dunbatton_ joined the salvo, adding more weight to the salvo.

"Ma'm!" One of the officers yelled. "The asteroid's continued rotation won't allow us fire off another salvo. They're too slow!"

As the situation cleared, the pirate vessels along with the point-defense turrets along the surface focused all their efforts on the incoming supertorpedoes. Now that they knew how destructive they were, the pirates spared no effort in destroying the lethal projectiles. The dome covering the undamaged beam laser turret almost finished retracting, allowing it to pound Harry's bruised task force with impunity.

"Hancock base will rotate out of our firing line soon." Claris declared to Harry. "However, if we load our new portkey torpedo now and launch it immediately, we might be able to teleport up to four squads of marines on the upper surface of the base. Will you authorize it?"

Commodore Harry needed to make his decision quick. He nodded curtly, knowing quite a bit how perilous such a drop action might unfold. They had only vague intelligence about the amount of defenders and what kind of base defenses Hancock featured. Yet his task force couldn't afford another barrage from that blasted beam laser. "Fire off the torpedo as fast you can."

As Claris relayed the order, Harry strapped himself out of his seat and made to leave the bridge. "Keep my ships alive, Claris. I'll make sure that turret won't fire again when the asteroid completes its turn."

The female captain wished him luck before turning her attention back to the situation at hand. "What is the status of their primary weapon?"

"Their beam laser turret is powering up to fire at us again!"

"Vent our heated cooling fluids now! Don't give them a clear target!"

Ever since the tactic proved its effectiveness in hiding the _Marauder_ from the targeting scopes of a battleship, the crew had refined the mechanisms even further. Originally intended to act as an emergency dump should the pocket dimensions somehow start to disgorge their boiling hot contents, the external sprayers now featured nozzles that maximized the formation and dispersion of steam coolant. Complex systems transferred the hottest coolants to these systems, causing the ship to flare up in an expanding cloud of blinding heat.

"Order the _Laurentine II_ and _Dunbatton_ to fall back at our rear! We'll shield them from the enemy's lasers."

While the message had a little difficulty reaching the two ships due to increasing interference, the large and ungainly vessels nonetheless jumped behind the Maddie as if their lives depended it. And it did, since they could see as well as anyone how much a single pair of beam lasers carved the _Fairweather_ into a half-molten pile of slag. Wonder by wonder, she ejected their fusion reactor in time, preventing a nuclear explosion from wiping her out.

Yet that was little consolation, as the consecutive lasers ripped into the _Faireweather'_s structure and seared whole compartments into slag. The crews aboard the Q-ship must have experienced hell at its purest, as the huge beams outright vaporized any organic in their path. The massive transfer of heat also radiated into the vicinity, heating up the entire vessel like a furnace in full blaze. If by some miracle any crewmember managed to jump into an escape pod and survived the scorching heat, the highly lethal radiation all capital class lasers emitted ensured that they wouldn't outlive the day.

"The portkey torpedo is loaded. Giving the order to fire it now."

Unlike the more conventional supertorpedoes, the portkey torpedo jumped out of the _Marauder_'s launcher. Zhang's designs whirled into life, giving the otherwise unassuming projectile a massive dollop of acceleration. If there were any marines huddled inside, they would have been flattened into mush due to the inhuman g-forces at work. All this energy gave the torpedo an extraordinary interception time. The pirates, having recently dealt with all the supertorpedoes, couldn't achieve one successful hit. The projectile was simply too fast to track effectively.

With only seconds left until the torpedo reached the surface, the lengthy tube engaged all its break, slowing down its prodigious speed. With an almost anti-climactic thud, the torpedo managed to plant itself onto the rock with just over a half of its length sticking out. This allowed two of the ports to open up and deposit a pair of gravitic-weighted portkeys onto the almost gravity-less surface.

* * *

Down at the armory, Harry and his eager squads of marines followed the torpedo's progress. When they saw that the torpedo managed to drop two of its four portkeys, the marines shouted a victorious cry. Only one needed to be deployed to bring a squad of marines. Subsequent squads could be deployed by carrying additional portkeys by the initial squad.

"Alright, men, settle down!" Chief Cleveland ordered. He pointed to the First Squad, headed by Sergeant Castia. "First Squad will teleport first and secure the immediate perimeter. Once they give the all clear we'll send out Assault Squad led by Commodore Harry. Further squads will be deployed when needed. Right now, our primary objective is to disable – but not destroy – the Class IX twin-barreled beam turret that survived the initial torpedo barrage. Any questions? Then check your gear and prepare to move out!"

The First Squad fearlessly touched the central portkey – an ungainly star-like object meant to be touched by a crowd of people – and disappeared without a sound.

Despite all their reservations, the First Squad landed safely onto the surface of the asteroid. Their heavy boarding armor instantly engaged the gravitic boots, letting each and every one of the marines maintain a firm grip. The moment they landed, the men and women fanned out to take stock of their surroundings.

"Clear!"

The portkey torpedo delivered the first squad somewhere at the edge of Hancock's perimeter. The nearest artificial structure was several hundreds of meters away, and that was fortunate. If the torpedo landed in the exact middle of the base, the First Squad would have been consumed by intense afterheat of the supertorpedo which only minutes earlier exploded in a devastating fashion. Even from this distance, Castia saw that many surface structures had warped or broke from the explosive blasts. But that same view also revealed that at least one beam turret survived the conflagration. The twin barrels moved up to aim at a ship many kilometers distant and started to pour out a pair of scorching beams.

The intense heat and light instantly caused the marines' helmets to cut off the excess and switch to an alternate, electronic view. If their visors hadn't changed their configuration, the marines would have all been blinded permanently.

"That beam turret is our primary objective." The sergeant muttered through the local net. "Advance quickly but avoid detection. Stay under the ridges. We'll deploy the Assault Squad as soon as we reach the interior of the turret structure."

The marines acknowledged her orders and hopped forward with the confidence gained from training and experience. Running was impossible on an asteroid. Not only did it lack the gravity to keep hold of a grain of sand, its surface was also extremely rugged. It took intense skill and familiarity with their armor's gravitic functions to hop forward accurately without bowling over or overshooting into open space. That happened more often than not, and their suit's gravitic boots only worked so far before they were unable to keep an errant marine grounded.

Yet despite the risks, the marines knew how important they needed to disable the beam turret emplacement before the asteroid could finish another rotation. They took substantial risks by hopping so fast. Sometimes they overshot just ever so slightly, causing their upper profile to extend beyond the ridge and come into view of the base. Each time a marine had slipped, Castia hoped that the pirates were still too distracted by the destruction to notice a squad of approaching marines.

That was when one of her men stepped on the wrong place. His position instantly flared up in the distinctive blast of a plasma mine.

"HALT!" She hollered into the comm, though her men already ceased hopping forward. Castia took one glance at the fallen marine and saw that the mine managed to rupture his armor too severely to maintain compression. At least his death came instantly.

"Rank up and ready your rifles!"

The marines gathered into a single line and held up their enhanced beam rifles. At Castia's order, they fired their beam at the second-highest intensity and scorched the deceptively natural surface all the way to the large turret. Sure enough, a couple of more mines detonated.

While protocol stated that they needed to sweep the path several more times, they simply didn't have the time. The pirates must have surely been alerted to their presence by now. "Lower rifles and advance!"

Even as the mighty beam turret continued to burn some distant target, the pirates had enough awareness and organization to mount a defense. An armor hovercar left the surface and started to whip around and rake the invaders with pulser fire.

"Eliminate that car!"

Nine Class III beam lasers shot out collide with the hovercar. Though its armor was designed to withstand most small-arms fire, the concentration of firepower the beams presented overwhelmed the vehicle, causing it to burst and crackle into a useless wreck that wildly overshot its mark and floated away, dead in the water.

More defenders emerging from the surviving beam turret started to shoot at the First Squad, stopping their advance with only a hundred meters to spare.

"Sergeant, what's your status?" Harry contacted her through the commandnet. "Can you advance any further?"

"We're pinned down here!" She replied, trying to do her best to discourage the pirates from charging forward.

"Deploy the next portkey, then. I'm coming down to take care of the situation personally."

She did what she was asked. The sergeant retrieved a small metal object and threw it at a relatively flat and even area. Once she signaled that the portkey was deployed, the Assault Squad made its entry.

While the First Squad would always maintain their primacy in Harry's hierarchy as the wizard's personal bodyguards, the Commodore foresaw a need for marines who were equipped with heavier armaments. While such troops were too ungainly to be used in boarding actions, on base assaults and other infantry actions they were ideal.

Harry's slim and ergonomic armor stood out starkly against the backdrop of the Assault's Squad's mega-armored suits. Each of the armors weighed several tons under normal gravity. They would have been entirely impractical if not for the magical charms that lightened the components. The massive contraptions lumbered forward and affixed their variety or arm-mounted and shoulder-mounted armaments to bear on the puzzled enemy defenders.

Not bothering to bring out his wand or pistol, Harry simply hurled his arm forward and ordered, "Fire!"

Designed for pure destruction, the Assault Suits featured a combination of different armaments. Their Class III beam lasers were sufficient against most infantry and other soft targets. However, their uncommonly huge shoulder-mounted cannons loaded pre-prepared kinetic rounds from a pocket dimension out of a backpack module. Those rounds then fired from the pair of cannons with the force that Professor Zhang measured at Class IV.

With that much power, the rounds simply tore through the hapless defenders as if they didn't exist. When the kinetic rounds inevitably impacted the base of the beam turret, the plating almost buckled inwards from the impacts.

"Hold fire on the kinetic rounds!" Harry ordered hastily. He didn't want the interior of the turret to lose air. That might make it difficult to bring the base back up once he captured it. "First Squad, Assault Squad, dial down the beam lasers to Class II unless we meet armored resistance. There's no reason to shoot this base to pieces."

Once he confirmed his men dialed down their weapons, he trudged forward with considerably more clumsiness than his other men. The First Squad took point, closing the distance rapidly and gaining control of one of the airlocks. By the time Harry and his sluggish Assault Squad reached their location, a marine already hacked the entry and gained administrative control.

"Let the Assault Squad go first, sir." Castia suggested. "The pirates know we're out here and probably have their entry points covered."

"Good idea." The boy signaled his heavy men to enter the airlock and ready their arsenal. Once the outer airlock shuttered, they heard or saw nothing else. Even wireless communications shut down.

Just a minute later, the outer airlock opened again, revealing only one of the Assault Marine. The man tried to salute, but failed due to all the weapon barrels in the way. "We've dealt with the ambush, Commodore."

Nodding, Harry motioned for the rest to go inside. As the inner airlock cycled upwards, they were greeted with a scene of carnage and devastation. Scores of pirates had prepared an impromptu ambush for whoever entered inside. Most of their makeshift barricades and obstacles proved to be utterly useless to the ceaseless barrage of the Assault Marines. Bodies littered the floor, most of them scorched and burned half-way through by the relentless fury of Harry's heaviest marines.

"Alright, First Squad, secure this entire emplacement. The pirates must have exhausted most of the people assigned to this system, but leave no one alive to be sure. Try to gain control over the turret when all is clear. Cut off the power if you have to, just force it to shut down."

"Yes sir." Sergeant Castia saluted, but she didn't turn to join the rest of her men quite yet. "What will you be doing, sir?"

The boy called his Assault Marines together and pointed at a locked security gate. They obligingly shattered the heavy obstacles with a volley of kinetic rounds.

"I'm going to secure the rest of this Merlin-damned base. Please deploy all the portkeys you carry and direct the invasion from here. Try to find a map and identify the location of their control center."

The marine sergeant saluted and went to work while Harry and his chosen men lumbered past the ruined gate. It would take a lot of men to clear the underground base thoroughly of pirates, but with the beam lasers down, they stood a much better chance of gaining victory.

* * *

"The beam laser turret has stopped firing!" Blake announced, his relief clearly evident to even the most insensitive person.

Captain Claris smiled at the news, but a touch of worry remained on her face. "Ms. Kenzie, have you managed to regain contact with Commodore Harry?"

"No Ma'm. The shielding is too effective and the ongoing battle is distorting our signals."

That worried the captain, forced her to trust that Harry knew what he was doing. Half the time he didn't, of course, so Claris was dismayed that she couldn't keep contact with her master. She had no choice but to wrap up the naval battle and leave Harry to take care of things on the surface. "Sitrep, please. Can the _Marauder_ still keep going?"

"Our armor plating has taken a severe toll. Several bow sections have lost their outer armor and we've lost a few compartments. Casualties number in the tens so far. Several broadside barrels are too warped to fire safely. Our stern is virtually intact, however, and we still maintain full engine capability, though our energy grid is only eighty-nine percent operational."

Grunting, Claris rapped her fingers against her chair handle. It was as much as she expected. The real damage to the ship was limited, but the beam lasers had done a nasty job against the armor plating, depleting it in many areas. It would take another major refit to bring the ship up to full strength, and that wasn't possible with Hancock or Cleopatra's infrastructure. _'What am I thinking? I should worry about the logistics later, right now I have a battle to win.'_

From her sensor plot, she sensed that the pirates were faltering from the lack of fire support from Hancock Outpost. They were sitting ducks right now, but if they should run, Claris might never be able to catch up to them again. "Kenzie, open a transmission to the _Dunbatton_ and the _Carthaginian._"

Captain Long and Captain Sainte-Marie both appeared into view. While the corvette captain looked eager and excitable, the same could not be said for the nobleman, who was clearly affected by the _Fairweather_'s fate.

"Captains, we don't have enough time, but we must press forward if we wish to win this battle decisively." Claris said with as much strength she could muster. "Captain Long, I need your two Q-ships to help the _Immortal Marauder_ to destroy the surviving frigates and mobile carrier. Captain Sainte-Marie, you need to ignore the frigates and go straight for their corvettes. Catch up to them and make sure they don't escape. Can the both of you do that?"

"Yes, ma'm!" Sainte-Marie acknowledged, and cut the transmission.

"Umm.." Captain Long on the other hand still appeared dazed. "I shall support your efforts as best as possible. Ma'm."

'_That will have to do.'_ Claris thought bitterly, disgusted at Long's lack of response. That was the trouble with putting spoiled nobles on captain's seat. The moment they encountered any setback, they collapsed like a house of cards.

Only two frigates and one mobile carrier remained of the larger pirate forces. The _Marauder_'s strike craft surged forward, testing the waters while the pirate fighters tried to frustrate their efforts. The pirates evidently had cold feet, and started to break further backwards but not into an outright retreat. Sainte-Marie led her gang of corvettes along a flank, hoping to sandwich the pirates between themselves and the asteroid. Claris approved of the maneuver and made sure she slowed the _Marauder_'s approach ever so slightly in order to give the pirates more space.

The distance between the two forces closed. The pirates' half-hearted retreat accomplished little, as they neither retreated nor presented a united front against their opponents. The Maddie flipped long enough to unleash a hasty broadside. At that same moment, the pirates fired a concentrated volley that astonished Claris and managed to scar a couple more gun barrels.

"Our port broadside is down to two turrets!"

"Mercury!" The captain cursed. "Forget the broadsides. Use our forward demiturrets to finish them off."

The demiturrets were more resistant to damage, though they fired weaker pulse bolts. The Maddie laid down a steady bombardment that slowly chipped away at the pirate frigates. Still, despite the odds, Claris figured she was missing something. By all rights the frigate captains must know that they were still outmatched. _'What do they have up their sleeve?'_

Then she remembered something. "Reverse course! Shift all spare power to our point-defense turrets!"

The moment they cut their engines, the pirates figured the game was up. The two frigates flipped to the side, exposing their missile tubes. They fired one broadside, rotated to present the other side, and fired a second set of missiles.

"Identify their type!"

It took too many seconds to get a response.

"They're.. they're Doomhammer missiles!"

It was just as she suspected, though she had no idea how pirates managed to get their hand on the finest anti-ship missiles on the market. They were incredibly expensive and used extra-solar materials as ingredients. It was one of the few ways smaller missiles could equal the firepower of a capital ship. If the Maddie still maintained armor integrity, then she could have comfortably absorbed most of the blasts. With plenty of holes, though, the Doomhammers had a very real chance of penetration.

"Fifteen seconds until impact!"

"Turn our ship and present our roof to the missiles!"

The _Immortal Marauder_ flipped, presenting her least damaged side to the incoming ordnance. Of the dozen missiles, most had already been shot down, but the point-defense coverage couldn't quite eliminate all of them. Two surviving missiles thundered with lethal finality against the cracked surface of Maddie's roof armor.

Just moments before impact, seats began to cocoon their occupants, protecting them from shocks and other battle damage.

Then the missiles exploded, causing twin spikes to bore through the weakened armor and penetrate several upper decks. The cruiser roiled under the painful strike and almost buckled inward from the strain. Out of all the different missile types, none were more potent than the Doomhammers, because their design forced their destructive explosion out in one, narrow cone of destruction. The missiles were therefore able to waste a minimal amount of energy and concentrate all of their forces in a very narrow area.

The bridge sat on the upper decks and couldn't escape all the destruction. Heavy shockwaves resonated along the bulkheads and cracked a few more decks.

When the cocoons retracted their crushing embrace, the bridge crew quickly took stock of their ship.

"I want a damage report now!" Claris demanded with gritted teeth.

It took a moment before an officer gathered enough information. "The upper five decks are breached. Seventeen compartments are wrecked. Seven point-defense turrets have gone offline. Several energy conduits are severed, causing our energy grid efficiency to drop to sixty-three percent."

"Casualties?"

"Estimated at around sixty to eighty.. with around forty fatal."

That hurt the most, though that was not the most relevant disadvantage at the moment. The loss of much of their point-defense turrets made them vulnerable against further missile attacks, though Claris doubted the pirates had a second volley of Doomhammers ready. Still, they needed to finish this battle here and now.

"Flip our vessel and fire a portkey torpedo at their mobile carrier." They might have a chance of taking it over intact. "Annihilate the frigates. They're too dangerous to keep alive. Target their engines first. I don't want them to run away."

The two squadrons converged now that the pirate vessels decided to stand their ground and fight. The Doomhammer volley probably made them confident enough to finish the battle. Large-caliber pulse bolts streaked past each other as both sides hammered each other into submission. The extra damage Claris' cruiser sustained didn't make the captain any happier, but her targeting orders ensured that the frigates wouldn't escape.

"Both of the enemy frigates have lost primary propulsion! One of them is jetting escape pods!"

"Ms. Stacy… order our gunners to open fire on those escape pods. No quarter."

The weapons officer nodded grimly. Emotions ran high right now, and everyone wanted to tear the bastards apart. "With pleasure, ma'm."

As the _Immortal Marauder_ massacred the defenseless pods, the _Laurentine II_ and the _Dunbatton_ sat back with silent horror. While they felt the same rage towards the pirates, they weren't quite willing to violate this most fundamental principle of leaving escape pods alone.

The space battle soon wrapped up. Claris ordered the remaining marine squads that Harry hadn't called to board the two frigates and eliminate the remaining holdouts. She might as well try to salvage them and convert them to her own use. The gutting the _Fairweather_ received at the hand of one of the beam laser turrets meant that she most certainly had to be scrapped.

The anger slowly left her body. The losses they sustained would permanently influence the rest of their campaign. Until the _Immortal Marauder_ returned to her familiar berth at Firestorm Shipyards, she would have to sail in space with the constant fear that one well-placed torpedo could slip through the cracks of her armor and cripple all her remaining systems. She hoped that Harry had better luck down at the asteroid.

* * *

The ground battle progressed much better than the one in space. The pirate forces here put so much stock in their powerful beam turrets that they never prepared for an insertion of enemy marines. And while defenders of Hancock Outpost boasted several powerful assets in the form of their beamlasers and Doomhammer missiles, their basic boarding armor crumpled before Harry's extremely well-equipped marines.

Compounding the defense was that most of the pirates currently on base consisted of technical support. Mechanics, technicians and engineers didn't make for the best front-line troops. A lot of them had a spare suit of boarding armor and a decent rifle. Harry's slow advance meant that the pirate commander had plenty of time to organize his haphazard men and choose a location favorable to his forces.

That mattered little, it turned out, as the Assault Squad brushed aside the pitiful pulse bolts and tore chunks out of the enemy's fortified positions. Just behind, Harry's remaining marines fanned out and methodically flanked the pinned and shocked defenders.

It was a complete massacre.

"Keep the commander alive!" Harry yelled, remaining at the rear when he saw that his men had the situation under control. Unfortunately for him, his command came out just too late, as the commander died a few seconds earlier from a stray beam laser.

In the end, very few of the defenders survived. Completely cowed, they dropped their rifles and offered their unconditional surrender.

The Battle of Hancock Outpost finally ended, but not to Harry's favor.

"We've paid a heavy price for this victory." Claris told him over the commandnet once his marines managed to take control of the base, halt the asteroid's rotation and disable the local jamming. "The _Immortal Marauder_ needs acute repairs, but she won't ever be able to take this much damage again without a full refit. The _Fairweather_ as you know is a total loss. On top of that we've got holes in our crew departments that can't easily be replaced."

Practically the only divisions that performed well were the ground forces and the corvettes. Captain Sainte-Marie somehow managed to keep her corvettes in line long enough to hammer the ragged pirate corvettes into mush. Her greater numbers and organization allowed her to whittle down most corvettes while losing only two. Five of them eventually surrendered, but several wrecks were probably still salvageable.

The overall result of the battle was that Harry gained an important staging point and a couple new ships. However, he paid for it by sacrificing much of his cruiser's integrity. This had the unfortunate effect of weakening his position while dealing with an expanded crowd of unreliable ships.

"Alright," Harry nodded. "Secure the wrecks and captured vessels and tow them into Hancock's docks. Do you think we need to ground the _Marauder?_"

"That would be best, sir." Claris supplied after a few seconds of weighing the odds. "The sooner we initiate repairs, the better. If I may suggest, you should order most of our corvettes to dock as well. The captured beam turret along with our relatively undamaged Q-ships can see to our defense."

"Very well. Do as you see fit. I'll wrap up things on my end here and make sure the docks are ready to receive you."

After the initial euphoria of their victory, Harry's people lost much of their optimism as the cost of their victory became more evident. The Maddie's ugly rents and holes demoralized everyone, but the total loss of the _Fairweather_ along with her three-hundred plus crew had an especially strong effect on the Ioans. There was no doubt they won a victory here, but the knowledge that there was still a veritable pirate armada out there in the Darwin Cluster meant that they were living on borrowed time.

The moment the pirate commander heard what happened to his outpost, he would have no choice but to race back and regain control. Harry and his battered task force had to be ready for that attack if he wanted to have any hope of keeping his gains and securing this sector more permanently against raids.

'_The people back home in Io better appreciate the sacrifices I make here.'_ Harry thought as he entered the spacious docking area where most of the corvettes had landed. While the distant retribution presented his greatest threat, he was also keenly aware at the ever-present chance of mutiny. This recent victory might make his captives overconfident, and attempt an invasion despite the power he held over them through their slave collars.

That was why he personally went down to the docks and received Captain Sainte-Marie as she stepped down the gangway. "Commodore! What a surprise!"

They exchanged a brief hug as if they were old friends. "Good work out there. I'm glad you managed to capture those corvettes."

"They were cornered and confused." She replied charmingly, but smiled at the compliment. "What brings you here, Commodore?"

"This," The wizard said, and reached out to deactivate and remove Sainte-Marie's collar. "Is what brought me here. It occurred to me that I could use some new talent, and you have proved your competence in spades today. So, what do you know about magic?"

* * *

**End Notes:** I'm gonna slow my updates for this fic (but I have no plans to abandon it) while I try to map out my new fantasy novel. While I preferred to start with a science-fiction story, fantasy is easier to write and have a larger audience. Romance actually has the highest proportion of sales, but I am not even going to begin there. For now, I'll just keep writing the stuff that I'm familiar with, though I'll try not to include too much weirdness that I add to my fanfics for fun.


	60. II: The Heart of the Matter

February 23, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: I've developed enough ideas now to produce an outline for my new fantasy novel. This will naturally mean that I will spend less time with _The Star Empire_. For now, I plan to produce a few more chapters, but the update time will taper out substantially from here on out. The next update will arrive even longer. I do plan on completing this story, but I can't promise I will spend time on it each month. Rather, I will have moments where I am intensely motivated to write for this story and many months of downtime where I spend time on other things. At its simplest form, I envisioned _The Star Emire_ as a trilogy, and currently we're about halfway. That will mean it will take an ungodly amount of time before I finally finish the final chapter.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_The Heart of the Matter_

* * *

It took days to take stock of their new and precarious situation. The victory Harry bought at Hancock Outpost caused more destruction than anyone anticipated. He lost one entire Q-ship with 350 hands and sustained about 50 casualties from his own ship. Without the first-class refit capabilities of his own shipyard in Io, the _Immortal Marauder_ was never going to operate at peak efficiency again any time soon. The only spoils his side gained were a smattering of corvettes, a damaged outpost and a hundred-or-so prisoners.

"How long will the Maddie stay offline?" Harry asked, palming the half-burned plating of his massive cruiser as she sat helplessly in the outpost's largest bay. The _Marauder_'s dark, stealthy coating featured many giant scorch marks and even deeper rents across her entire surface.

"Well, if we enlist the house-elves, we can have it functional in a couple of days, but.." Claris glanced back at the other corvettes lined up at the dock. "It's difficult to keep them out of sight."

While Harry revealed the existence of magic to Captain Sainte-Marie and her small crew of corvettes, he wasn't ready to leak it out to his entire task force. Most of them were of dubious allegiance and could not be trusted with such a valuable secret. "Do the best you can, Claris. Keep the elves inside. If anything from the exterior needs repairs, just dismantle it and bring it into the cargo hold. Make it appear as if we are using industrial equipment we've installed inside our ship."

It wasn't an optimal plan, but it would have to do. Captain Claris took one more look at her damaged vessel and sighed. "I'm sorry, Commodore."

"Sorry for what?"

"I failed you this time." She said, making her anguish known to the one who she didn't want to disappoint above all. "I was lazy and underestimated the pirates defending this base as typical rabble. I should have realized that Admiral Black would organize his forces better than that, and arm them with more advanced armaments."

Harry had long experience in receiving apologies, but this one felt more heartfelt than usual. He turned to her, considering what he had just heard and how he should respond. "As the highest ranking officer, I'm the one who bears ultimate responsibility. Don't beat yourself over it. I made the exact same mistakes as you. I've become too complacent."

"But I'm the expert here. I should have foreseen the asteroid's rotation at the very least."

He shook his head. "That's all in the past now. The only thing we can do is get over it and try not to fall for it next time."

Next time, the tables would be turned. Harry's forces would soon have to defend themselves against the main pirate fleet in the Darwin Sector. From what his prisoners had told him so far, the pirate commander gathered and mobilized his extensive raiding forces into one singular fleet to defeat Harry's task force. To have his base, his bulwark taken away from him would probably enrage the commander into a frenzy and cause him to throw his full weight into retaking Hancock Outpost.

Harry's forces needed to be ready before the counterattack arrived. The projected numbers of the pirate fleet severely outmatched Harry's own weakened forces. The only thing he had with him was that he had full control over Hancock including a single functional beam laser turret. That was going to be his biggest asset aside from the _Immortal Marauder_ herself.

"Come with me." Harry called, and they walked along the length of the ship and boarded it through the open cargo bay. They passed dozens of crewmen hauling equipment or dismantling broken fixtures. They entered the interior decks of the cruiser and come across a gaggle of house-elves cheerfully cleaning everything in sight at the firm guidance of the so-called 'elf herders', whose sole job was to make the ugly creatures do what Harry wanted.

Eventually, they arrived at the medical bay. A chorus of screaming, mumbling and other unpleasant noises assaulted their ears. The cots were fully occupied by grievously wounded crewmen. Most of the wounded suffered from burn marks caused by beam lasers or Doomhammer explosions. While the skin wounds were relatively easy to repair, the two doctors were fully occupied, leaving the less severely wounded personnel to wait for precious treatment.

"Harry!" Selner said as she noticed him coming closer. She had her hands thick with configuring one of the healing devices that performed the actual treatment. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to see the wounded for myself." Though Harry half-regretted coming here at all. "How many people do you think will recover by the end of the month?"

The doctor pursed her lips. "That's difficult to estimate. It's still too early to tell, and—"

"—You can have thirty of your men back in fighting shape by then." Dr. Scranton interrupted at the far end of the bay.

"Thank you." Selner snarked back at her colleague before turning back to Harry. "Thirty is a conservative estimate, I'd say. You might get a handful up more if their surgery proceeds well."

Nodding, Harry waved goodbye and left the medical bay. Claris followed after him as his silent shadow. He entered a spare compartment, switched on an electronic display, and gazed out at the bustle of the docking bay where hundreds of his subordinates worked to get things back into shape.

"Look at all those people, Claris."

She did, and found it impressive that Harry managed to amass such a following over the years she had known him. "They are yours, Harry. All of them are yours."

The boy snorted. "Do you really think so? How many crewmen do we have aboard the _Marauder_? Five-hundred or so. The two Q-ships have a combined crew of about seven-hundred men and women. Now compare that to the amount of pirates who we've shackled and forced to serve an enemy nation. How many unwilling minions can you count?"

That was difficult to estimate. They had about 20 or so corvettes in reasonable condition, and a couple more with substantial damage. An average corvette usually carried only twenty to thirty crewmen, depending on the amount of boarding infantry the captain preferred to carry. But then there was Hancock Outpost itself. The assorted technicians and other support personnel they captured consisted of another two-hundred men.

It took a small moment for Claris to come up with a tally. "That amounts to about seven-hundred pirates. But your own core forces still outnumber them. And you have Sainte-Marie to help you manage the crew."

"I'm not sure that she will make it. Sainte-Marie is a smart and competent captain, but I can't say that everyone will take her seriously. It took me a lot of trouble to wrangle my own crew from committing mutiny, remember?"

He had a point, Claris conceded. Yet Sainte-Marie wasn't on her own. She could rely on Harry to back her up. "I think Sainte-Marie will keep things under control. She's ambitious and eager to impress you, and you can't say the same for most of the other pirate captains you've captured. You don't often meet a talent like her."

It didn't put him much at ease, but Harry had little choice in this matter. "It's not really what I want. This," He gestured his hand over the entire display. "Is not what I would call an army."

"An army," She responded, "Doesn't necessarily consist of people who share your goals. Remember what we discussed before we left Io? What is more important, the lives of your men, or the goal that you want to achieve? These workers you coerced into serving you are your tools."

That, ultimately, lay at the heart of the matter. As much as Harry considered himself a deviant, he wasn't as disrespectful of life as Voldemort. He liked to believe thath is core crew were personally loyal to him rather than his money or his magic. After living alone for so long, being hunted by everyone he knew, it was a refreshing change to work together with people who you could trust to cover your back.

"Don't be afraid to spend their lives in order to achieve what you want. Captain Gloria certainly won't hold back."

"Gloria." The name brought unhappy memories to Harry. They finally found out who led the attacks on Io's extra-solar mining capacity. It was as if Admiral Black assigned her here for the express purpose of tormenting him. "That bitch got the better of me last time we met."

His Second agreed with the sentiment. "The _Mirrored Abyss_ is a daunting ship to fight against. If there's any vessel that can sink the _Immortal Marauder_, it's Gloria's personal vessel."

As much as Harry wanted to face Gloria on more even terms, time was simply against him. Claris and his other officers had estimated it would take about a month and a half for Gloria to find out what happened to her staging point and turn back to fight off the occupiers. In that time, they needed to develop a strategy to defeat not only the _Abyss_, but also her escort of frigates and swarm of corvettes.

"Claris."

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for staying loyal to me in these difficult times. Once I have gained ultimate power over my enemies, I will be sure to remember your contribution. You can ask me anything you want, and I'll grant it to you."

His statement brought a smile to Claris' face. "You're welcome. And I'll hold you to your promise."

* * *

Admiral Black extended his empty glass and let the free-flowing trickle of wine drop into the bowl. Captain Grey, his son and heir, eagerly sawed off a portion of tonight's main course. It was always a special delight to receive Venus' most delicious bounty. The still-living animal squealed through the gag as it felt its flesh parting from its body while still alive and conscious. Grey first set aside a portion for his father, as was his due. The leader of the Callistoan Maffia eagerly cut into the tender meat.

The next cut, a piece of rump, went to the Ganymedian ambassador. Duke Emile Blanc accepted the plate with a minute nod, and carefully parted a strip of raw meat with his fork and knife.

The next portion was for himself. Grey hacked off a slender leg portion, and without any sense of propriety, began munching on the piece like a primitive barbarian. His teeth tore through the juicy hide and the raw, succulent meat right into the bone.

"My apologies for our table manners," Black apologized half-heartedly as he chewed. "But when you bring something back from Venus, we just can't help ourselves."

Duke Blanc paid no mind to it. Pirates had no manners. "I am quite comfortable, thank you very much."

The three spoke no further and enjoyed their meal. Captain Grey continued to cut different portions of meat as his father and his guest demanded. Sometimes one of the two would strike up polite conversation, such as the state of the war, the disposition of ships, and other trivial information. Grey himself waited for the moment when the meeting reached its critical point.

"Duke Blanc," Admiral Black started as he wiped his stained mouth with a napkin. "Do you concur with our predictions on what the Ioans will attempt next year?"

"My government's intelligence agencies are not in complete agreement, but my king shares some of your concerns. This 'offensive' that the Ioans are cooking up cannot be allowed to succeed even partially. The Jupiter Outback must remain in our control. Something that you and your nation of Jovia has amply promised but have yet to deliver. In fact, it appears that Io is even growing stronger instead of weaker."

That was a sore point for Black's prestige. He reached out to the table and tore out one of the animal's eye before popping it into his mouth. "I can hardly expect to hold back that damned _Immortal Marauder!_ That thing is full of Terran technology. Even your warships would find it difficult to sink that tough little bitch."

Blanc's mouth curled disapprovingly at Black's excuses. "We made an agreement. A contract. How can we prepare our own offensive if you cannot even secure our backyards? Your setback is disturbing His Majesty's piece of mind."

It was clear what the duke wanted from Black. "My manpower is sorely pressed as it is now. I cannot divert forces from other fronts to take care of the situation at the Darwin Sector. My chosen agent there still holds numerical superiority. Her forces is sufficient enough to defeat, or at worst, delay the menace that gnaws on our toes. Tell your king not to mind our business there any further. The timeline is still on track."

"That is.. a generous way to view our current situation." The frown on Blanc's face remained. "Yet you will find His Majesty's opinions differ substantially from the one you have just laid out. I'm afraid if I do not return to him with more.. encouraging news.. that he might be so amenable to provide the necessary support in the event of an Ioan offensive. What you ask of us is extremely unorthodox. We can hardly reduce our critical strength to aid you in your defense if you do not appear to be worthy of trust."

That would just not do. Black threw down his napkin and stared at the ambassador in the eyes. "Of all the nations of Jupiter, it is we who effectively control the Jupiter Outback. We have been gracious enough to extend our protection to the facilities affiliated with our friends and allies. Should you.. insist.. on telling us where we should concentrate our forces, then please tell us how you wish to distribute my forces. Shall I keep sufficient patrols at your profitable mining colonies, or should I recall them and send them towards the Darwin Cluster, likely arriving several months after the decisive battle there is already fought?"

'_You uncouth savage.'_ Duke Blanc cursed silently, but maintained a pleasant smile throughout the exchange. "Perhaps we can delay a decision on this matter for a day or two while we explore alternatives."

"Yes, let's." Black said with a toothy grin, as if he knew with absolute certainty that the matter would never be brought up again. "Would you like to have some dessert?"

At Duke Blanc's nod, Grey dutifully cut two pieces of soft, silky smooth pudding from the half-eaten living carcass. The helpless woman wailed through her muffled mouth as she felt her chest being sawed apart by the captain's emotionless butchering. The son dutifully offered the plates to his seniors.

Despite the testy exchange, the pure delight of their rare and exquisite desserts wiped the negativity away. Captain Grey looked longingly at the dishes while he himself had to make do with the lungs. The woman was at the edge of her life by now, having lost almost all her blood and a handful of vital organs. Yet advanced Venusian genetic engineering had bred her body in such a way that her life would not leave this plane so easily. Their customers paid a lot of credits to experience the ultimate taboo. Nothing ruined a party more than having their dish die on them with plenty of flesh still attached to the bones.

"Have no fear, Ambassador Blanc." The Admiral grinned as he extended his grubby hand into the woman's exposed chest cavity and ripped out the beating heart. "The moment those Ioans think they have me cornered, they will get the reaming of their life."

The pirate leader bit into the raw, spasmic organ and paid no mind to the gratuitous sprays of blood that coated his face and vacsuit. Before him, the woman who used to be an average Venutian citizen finally found an end to her miserable fate as dinner.

* * *

"Commodore Harry!" A muffled voice called outside Harry's temporary quarters in Hancock Base. "I've received urgent news! Please open up!"

Having been used to waking up at the most inopportune moments for much of his life, Harry instantly bolted upright from his bed and retrieved his wand. Seeing that there were no immediate dangers, he pushed down his adrenaline and started to shake himself out of his bed. A naked Star stared bleary-eyed at him under the safety of the bed sheets.

"What.." She yawned. "What is going on?"

"Beats me, but it's probably something bad." He replied, and opened the door to admit a nameless junior officer, an Ioan ensign if Harry guessed correctly. "What is it, kid?"

The teenager gulped, but relayed his news. "Th-Th-There's urgent reports from the sensor beacons we've deployed around Hancock, sir. They've detected a large mass of ships heading in our direction. Our analysts say it can't be anything else but Captain Gloria's main fleet."

The blood rushed out of the wizard's face as he considered that news. His men were barely two weeks into repairing and rearming all of the battle damage. The _Immortal Marauder_ herself had about a third of her outer armor plating missing. To sortie out into space in this condition was like entering a jousting contest without armor. It was suicide.

"How.. far away are the pirates?"

"Two days at best speed."

That left them with far too little time to prepare for Gloria's arrival. Harry turned around, brushed up his appearance, then quickly left his quarters to down to Hancock's command center. Claris, Sainte-Marie and a smattering of officers and technicians saluted him as he entered.

"Someone tell me what the hell is going on." Harry hissed.

"So far, it looks grim." Claris responded, and gestured towards the central projector where a large number of blobs floated around. "Their arrival has come at least three weeks too early from our estimates. Either they weren't trawling very far from their base, or they somehow had advanced warning you were coming this way. Whatever the case, Captain Gloria has caught us with our vacsuits down. The _Marauder_ will not be in sufficient shape to throw into a fight."

It was another dangerous misstep, to put the _Marauder_ down from readiness in order to mitigate the worst of the battle damage. He knew the repairs took time, and now he was paying for it. Without his cruiser, his defense fleet consisted of nothing but paper-thin Q-ships and a score of tiny corvettes. All of which paled against Captain Gloria's projected fleet numbers.

"Have our beacons got a good reading on the numbers of Gloria's fleet?"

"We can't account for any trailers or scouts, but their formation doesn't suggest that Gloria is bothering to spread out her force. She's keeping them tight. As for the numbers…" Claris looked down at her datapad to study the latest estimates. "There's her destroyer, but she's escorted by as much as 8 other frigates or mobile carriers. Her corvette flotilla on the other hand numbers at around 40 individual ships."

Those were terrifying numbers. While on a good day, the _Marauder_ might have taken care of the _Mirrored Abyss_ and her frigate escort, it was a question now whether Harry's men could even make his cruiser spaceworthy in that short period of time. Without the _Marauder_, Harry's remaining fleet simply couldn't make a dent against those numbers. The only other factor in Harry's favor was that he had the privilege to play defense, and that he could use whatever's left intact of Hancock base to even the odds.

"So what do you think, Claris? Can our captured beam laser turret take the place of the Maddie?"

"Absolutely not." She rplied, damning that hopeful suggestion. "We can't replicate the hit-and-turn attacks because the boosters that spin the asteroid are all out of fuel. That puts the beam turret in a stationary position, making it vulnerable to long range bombardment or massed missile attacks. It will be too easy for Gloria's vessels to evade the turret as well if they wish by staying on the other side of the asteroid."

"Then what do we have?" Harry asked with more than a touch of desperation.

No one else provided an answer. "We have nothing, Harry. Nothing that can make the difference we want."

They discussed the situation at length. A few officers suggested some novel – and desperate solutions, such as converting the spare missiles in Hancock's storerooms into improvised mines. Gloria figured they might be able to lure a handful of ships into their doom, but once the enemy pirates knew where to look, the mines would be useless.

Another option was to board the _Mirrored Abyss_ herself. "We have a severe disadvantage in tonnage and firepower, but if it comes down to boarding actions, we maintain arguably the best marines of Jupiter. If we can somehow manage to board the _Mirrored Abyss_ and either cripple it or take it over, we can deal a severe blow to the pirate's morale."

"The trouble is getting onboard that ship." Harry mused. "Somehow, I don't see how that can be an easy thing."

With so many escorts, no portkey torpedo would survive long enough to reach the _Mirrored Abyss_. Another issue was her giant armored bow. Harry had very little confidence his torpedo could penetrate the notoriously resilient extra-solar plating there. The only way his torpedo could punch through the _Abyss_' hull was through the sides or aft.

Sainte-Marie had been frowning for a while. "Commodore Harry, Captain Claris, I don't think we're considering our best options here. Why not enter into a parlay with her?"

The idea sounded incredibly ludicrous. Claris looked skeptical at that suggestion. "Parlay? I can't see any reason why Captain Gloria would want to waste time on that when she wants to destroy us."

"She hates my guts as well." Harry supplied, remembering his rather rough handling of her body several years ago at the Excelsior Club. He imagined Gloria hadn't forgiven him for that.

"I've heard about that event." Sainte-Marie said. "But I've also heard that Gloria has been treated even worse by Captain Grey, and that she hates his guts even more than she hates you, sir. I think if you put her situation in a certain way, you might convince her to.. well.. turn on the Callistoan Maffia."

'_What the heck is she talking about?'_ Harry thought, but found himself strangely mesmerized by Sainte-Marie's theory. "Do you really think she's willing to go against her comrades? I doubt she's willing to forgive my transgressions."

That was a difficult sticking point, but Sainte-Marie had taken that into account as well. "Captain Gloria is a woman of ambition and independence. She detests her forceful inclusion in the ranks of the Callistoan Maffia. I wouldn't say she'd be willing to ignore the bad blood she has with you, but if you can somehow help her bring down Admiral Black, she won't look away from that offer."

Strangely enough, the more Harry considered the proposal, the more hopeful it sounded. Even Claris got round to the idea. "If it comes to an all-out battle between our forces against hers, the casualties will be heavy regardless who will come out on top. Captain Gloria won't be making herself any favors by losing the majority of the vessels she's been assigned with by her higher-ups. She already lost a lot of corvettes along with this base. These losses will continue to mark her career for the rest of her life."

"Hm, I do admit that the logic sounds great." Harry conceded. "But will Gloria put past her enmity against me long enough to consider the upside? I don't get the sense that she's capable of that kind of calculus."

Claris smirked sardonically. "Well, if nothing else, the parlay will allow you to gain access to her ship. Just offer to shuttle aboard the _Abyss_ and conduct your talks there. Even if she ambushes you, you can use your magic to survive long enough to summon our marines."

It was the best suggestion that Harry had heard so far, and despite the personal risks to himself, he accepted the idea. "Three days is not enough to put the _Marauder_ back online. The only way to defeat Gloria's ship is to cut off the head. Make the offer, Claris."

"Will do, sir."

Harry left the command center and returned to his quarters. He needed to make a lot of preparations to his equipment in order to cover any contingency he could imagine. A lot of things could go wrong during the parlay, and he wanted to maximize his chances.

* * *

Lady Amande smiled indulgently as she offered Illana and Annabelle something to drink. They eagerly gulped the lemonade before they went back to their toys.

She didn't mind looking over Terrance and Victoria's kid every once in a while. The two were of the same age, and quickly hit it off with gentle encouragement. Bringing their kids together was also a convenient excuse to visit Lord Terrance and extract some favors from him. So far, he hadn't shirked his promise to provide political support to Amande as she gradually immersed herself into Io's high society.

Today was a very special day, because she was expecting a very special guest to arrive at her apartment. The nature of the meeting was informal, of course, but she tried to make it certain that her guest would find nothing at fault. There was lots of money at stake, and the young lady wanted everything to go right.

Sure enough, the front door chimed. Amande wanted to bolt from her couch and open her door immediately, but she controlled herself and calmly paced to the entrance.

"Good afternoon."

"Lady Amande." The imperious lady nodded, and swept inside the apartment as if it was her own.

A pair of unobtrusive but likely heavily-armed bodyguards stood outside, but they nodded when Amande shut the door. The topic Amande wanted to discuss with the Prime Minister was too delicate to be overheard by anyone else. Though if Amande wanted to do Anastasia any ill, she had no doubt an entire platoon of Whirlwind Guards stood ready to crash through her walls.

The kids looked up at the new arrival, though both hardly knew who they were looking at. Only Annabelle knew her by name. "Auntie Anna!"

Annabelle dropped her stuffed tiger – to Illana's consternation – and leapt into Anastasia's arms. The Prime Minister greeted her cousin with none of her usual formality. "You've been gaining weight I see."

After a few inquiries, Anastasia left the kids to themselves and took a seat at the coffee table. A pre-prepared cup of tea was already set. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Amande replied, and lifted up the saucer to hold her own favorite brew.

The two shared polite conversation with each other. Anastasia asked how the kids were doing. Amande described how many new business partners she made. It was all well and good, but eventually Anastasia cut to the heart of her visit.

"So.. as CEO, I assume you have gained a sufficient picture on Firestorm Solutions. Let us discuss business now. Can you supply our navy with your husband's highly explosive torpedoes?"

She shook her head, but carefully, in order to avoid setting off that persistent itch on her arm. "The.. means of production.. remains with Harry. There is absolutely no way possible that we can reproduce the ordnance without his personal involvement."

Lady Anastasia didn't react in any outward fashion, but Amande wasn't fooled. Anastasia wanted those sweet torpedoes very much. "I see. Is there anything else that Firestorm can provide?"

Amande could give the Ioan Navy accelerated repairs, but her firm already provided that premium service. She knew she needed something more substantial to impress her aunt, and she had worked at the problem for months ever since Harry got out of her hair.

The main resource she had were the house-elves. The ugly, simplistic creatures wielded magic in a way that utterly surpassed all transhumans bar Harry himself, but the aliens stubbornly kept to so-called 'housekeeping' spells. Firestorm was able to exploit the house-elves' preference for order by giving them broken equipment to repair, but trying to convince them to cast any other kind of magic was incredibly difficult.

But she managed.

She had tried everything, from offering rewards, or threatening to give them clothes. The house-elves reacted irrationally to those impulses. The one elf she actually handed a spare vacsuit practically fell into a severe depression. The poor creature's anguish was so disturbing that her men were forced to euthanize the critter.

The team Amande put together to brainstorm creative solutions eventually hit the jackpot. They put a slab of hull plating in front of a house-elf, and then proceeded to destroy it. The house-elf naturally found the sight abhorrent, and repaired the damage immediately.

Her men then destroyed the plating again. And again. And again.

Eventually the elf made an exasperated sound, and instinctively cast another spell as it repaired the hull plating once again.

This time the plating didn't break. It took a significantly higher amount of force to damage the enchanted armor. Replicating this procedure to the rest of Firestorm's elf workers allowed Amande to sell a service that no other corporation in the solar system could offer.

Amande leaned back and smiled a little wider. "We have a.. shall we say.. proprietary treatment to reinforce the strength of any hull plating to many times their usual level. The stronger the inherent material, the higher the benefit. Up to three times their regular tolerance."

Now that sounded extremely interesting to Anastasia. The Prime Minister immediately imagined strengthening the famously strong hull plating of her capital ships. Io's battlefleet already boasted the best extra-solar armor known to human civilization. If she could strengthen them by a factor three, she could gain a devastating advantage. "Let's talk price."

As the two grown women haggled, Annabelle held Illana's favorite doll over her head, to her playmate's frustration.

"Give it back!" Illana whined, jumping as high as she could to get back the doll. "No fair!"

As high as Illana could jump on her little legs, she just couldn't reach the floating doll. "Give it back!" She bawled, interrupting her mother's business negotiation.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Amande asked as she went over to the kids. She saw Illana's Barbie doll floating above Annabelle's head. "Oh, Annabelle, you shouldn't take away your friend's things."

"But she didn't share." The guilty girl pouted. She looked decidedly less pleased when Amande plucked the doll out of the air and pressed it back in Illana's desperate hands.

"That's not how ladies like you and me ought to behave. Now apologize and make up."

Amande patiently waited as Annabelle delivered a grudging apology. Soon enough, the tears dried up and the kids forgot their earlier animosity. The lady turned away and went back to continue her negotiations with Anastasia. As she sat back down, she frowned as she realized something strange. _'I don't recall that line of dolls ever featured gravitic modules.'_

But then, the call of money pulled her mind from any distractions.

"So," Anastasia prompted. "How about a fixed 20 billion credit contract over a one-year period?"

"Sounds interesting." Amande grinned enthusiastically. "But I was thinking more in the range of 100 billion. Strengthening your battlefleet is an enormous advantage. I'm already giving you a substantial discount as it is."

* * *

**End Notes:** I've been juggling many story ideas over the years since I began writing fanfiction. Now that I am making the tentative step towards writing a full-length novel to be published in a serious fashion, it's rather challenging to choose what story to write. The fantasy story that I have chosen is rather vanilla, but it's also safe and not too convoluted.

I've also got other ideas in my closet that won't see the light of day. They are very dark and depraved, sort of in line with what I've done in _The Star Empire_. I'm sure there's a market for this kind of writing, but I don't have the experience or name recognition to successfully market something that risky.


	61. II: Compromising Dignity

March 29, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: Just another update. Don't expect fast updates for now, but I'll try to maintain a more regular pattern.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Compromising Dignity_

* * *

"So. We meet again." Captain Gloria greeted as she sat at the opposite side of the cold, metal table.

Harry wordlessly inclined his head, still wrapped around all the hidden dangers surrounding this impromptu meeting.

He hadn't been all-too-sure whether Gloria would even seriously entertain the offer of a parlay. After all, the harsh female captain was merely an instrument of a greater power, tasked with a set of absolute orders. She possessed no sovereign right to engage in diplomacy and make agreements separate from Admiral Black's demands. That she tentatively agreed to hold this parlay at all spoke much of her probable intent.

'_All neatly explained by Star. God I wish she were at my side.'_

As two like-minded scoundrels with a.. selective sense of honor, both Gloria and Harry were reluctant to trust each other to uphold the promise of safe conduct. Harry didn't trust he'd be safe if he boarded the _Mirrored Abyss_, and Gloria likewise declined to shuttle over to Hancock Outpost and put herself at the mercy of Ioan justice. That left a tenuous compromise of meeting aboard an empty courier ship floating somewhere in between Hancock and Gloria's formidable armada. If anything went wrong, either side could destroy the fragile little ship with an instant volley of beam lasers. This mutual hostage-taking meant that they had an incentive to play fair.. for now.

The woman grew a little impatient as Harry dragged on the silence. "I didn't come here to stare at your rotten face. Stop wasting time."

Time for Harry to lay his cards. "Very well. As you are doubtlessly aware, both of our forces are on the verge of fighting it out. No matter which side wins, its inevitable that there will be very few survivors. I have heard your loyalty to Admiral Black is not absolute. He is not worth spilling your blood for. I think.. we should consider other possibilities besides mutual destruction."

His counterpart smirked and leaned back to cross her arms. "I'm not so sure how mutual that would be. My fleet outguns your forces by a significant margin, and I know as well as you do how much damage your flagship sustained."

Harry suppressed the urge to bark back a retort. This was one of those games Star had coached him about. There was no way for Gloria to know the _Immortal Marauder_'s condition. It was his job to inflate his strength as much as possible without revealing any weaknesses while doing the opposite to his enemy. His artificial eye worked full-time in trying to read Gloria's body language, but the advanced instrument only gleaned partial clues from her trained posture. _'She's got military training alright. She's as obtuse as Claris.'_

"Nevertheless," Harry continued. "I've got a defensive advantage, and my subordinates have full control over the base's beam laser complement." No need to mention that just one out of two turrets were still standing. "You're going to lose a lot of your lightly-armored vessels by the time you get close, and you're going to lose a lot of boarders when you try to wrench this base from our control. My marine forces outclass your ramshackle pirates by a significant margin."

"Who said I wanted to take back the base intact?" She replied smoothly. "A deep bombardment will take care of any insects crawling inside the asteroid as well as anything."

"And lose your staging post this deep into enemy territory? I doubt your superiors will be glad to hear how much you screwed up so far in this campaign."

Something sharp leaked out of Gloria's face for an instant. Irritation. "No matter how much your side resists, Io and Europa can't hold the Jupiter Outback by themselves. We're too numerous. Your mining colonies _will_ fall, Commodore Harry. If not this year, then the next. Admiral Black is continuing to recruit more and more fortune seekers from around the solar system. Every two-bit criminal from every planet and moon is converging to this war, all of them scenting opportunity and riches."

The prospect sounded daunting, and Harry had to admit a part of the story rang true. The handful of intelligence reports that Harry received all spoke as much. Still, that was something Admiral Wellesley and the rest of the brass had to solve. Harry swept all those overarching concerns from his mind and focused on the here and now.

"That is irrelevant to the situation at hand, Captain Gloria. No matter what ingenious strategy you pull, you're going to get hurt badly if you intend to press on your attack."

Gloria's eyes twinkled at Harry's attempt to sound menacing. "And so will you. That is enough for me. No matter how many corvettes will fall beneath your firepower, I'll exact as much punishment as I can. Do you really think I care about the lives and well-being of the pirate forces under my command?" The bloodthirsty captain leaned forward with an ominous smile. "They are _nothing_ compared to the vengeance I will finally be able to wreck upon you for tarnishing my honor."

'_Merlin damnit, she hasn't let go of that time.'_ Frankly, Harry didn't blame the woman for feeling this way. That did not solve his current dilemma, though. He tried to figure out some solution, some accommodation that might succeed in diverting this impending attack. Gloria might or might not know it, but the _Immortal Marauder_ was utterly incapable of spaceflight due to his subordinates' ill-timed repair efforts. While his technicians were frantically patching every hole on her hull in order to make her battle ready, the plain truth was that even this small diversion didn't buy enough time.

He started to finger his wand hidden beneath the skin-tight structure of his vacsuit. As a wizard, Harry prepared several alternatives should the discussion prove unfruitful. _'I could Imperious her mind, but I don't relish the prospect. She's strong-willed, and even if I manage to tame her I doubt I can force her to issue orders useful enough until she collapses.'_

Yet without any other viable alternative, Harry discretely started to pull out his wand. It was either this or total defeat.

Something must have leaked out of his expression, as Gloria dropped her smile and held out her hand in a stop. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I've learned a few tricks since I've hosted those psi-ops brats on my ship. My uniform is rigged with nEMP modules. Whatever psi-trickery you have in mind won't work on me."

This time Harry couldn't conceal his surprise. _'What?! How can she know?'_

The smirk returned on Gloria's face, and Harry knew he made a big mistake. He confirmed one of her suspicions by spilling out information she wasn't sure it was true. "It's simple, you see. I counted how many psi-ops commandos departed from my ship and I counted how many of them returned. From the amount of casualties they suffered, it's natural to deduce that you or your subordinates possess much of the same powers. After all, it takes a psi-op to defeat a psi-op."

This was disturbing to hear on several levels. If someone like Gloria deduced this much, she probably wasn't the only one. That she chose to face him alone and expose herself to psi-op trickery spoke well of her confidence in meeting such a threat face-to-face.

"As it so happens though, you are right on one thing. Admiral Black.." Her eyes turned hateful at the mention. "And his ilk are not my friends. You could say that I am open to an.. accommodation.. if the terms are attractive."

If Harry didn't suppress himself, he would have let out a sigh. _'So she's not determined to wipe me out.'_ Yet that didn't reassure him as much as he wanted, as Captain Gloria had gained an undeniable advantage over the course of the discussion so far. The boy was determined not to give away too many concessions.

"With the authority bestowed on me by Director Stanley of the Dust Devils, I have the authority to issue full pardon to you and any of your pirate associates under your command, provided you change your allegiance from Jovia to Io and fight for the Io-Europa alliance for the remainder of this war under my command."

The female captain nodded nonchalantly, as if the generous offer was nothing more than an appetizer. "That sounds acceptable, except for one small fact. I will not put myself under your command, nor any other Ioan flunky. If I'm about to fight for Io instead of Jovia, let me do it as an independent."

"I do not have the authorization to—"

"—Oh cut the crap." Gloria interrupted Harry. "If your bosses gave you the power to grant pardons, they won't object to my request."

"I.. I can't promise anything. I'll have to get back to my superiors about that." Harry managed to grind out of his teeth. He didn't want to communicate with Director Stanley and open himself to additional orders he might not wish to follow, but on an issue as serious as this he could see no other choice. "But if Io accepts your stipulation, will fight under the Ioan flag?"

"No."

"What? Didn't you just agree to that a minute ago?"

Gloria grinned in a predatory fashion. "You misunderstand me, young man. I'm not joining any nation. I'll fight on the side of Io in exchange for a pardon, yes, but I have no intention of wedding myself to your nation. No, I have much more in store than that. I intend to take over Jovia with your alliance's backing."

The pronouncement made Harry totally silent. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's impossible."

"It isn't, kid." She spread her hands over the Spartan table. "First, think about Jovia? Is it a real nation? Of course not. It's an awkward collection of pirates brutally forced together by the Callistoan Maffia. They're the driving force of this unnatural union, but they don't number as much as everyone thinks. A lot of the current members of the Maffia are officers like me, forced into joining their ranks in order to direct the pirate forces. You can imagine not every one of us is happy with our less-than-willing conscription."

This sounded stupendously absurd to Harry, but he had to keep entertaining the notion. "So you plan to stage a rebellion amongst the pirate ranks and take over the entirety of Jovia from Admiral Black?"

"Short of assassinating Admiral Black and Captain Grey, that probably won't be possible." Gloria conceded in a modest display of giving ground. "But with enough manpower and the right help, I can commit my contacts to form a rebellion. We can wrench enough of the Maffia's assets out of their hands to end them as an effective fighting force against your precious paymasters."

The notion sounded attractive, if a bit unrealistic. Harry demurred over the implications. If this harebrained scheme somehow succeeded, at best the two pirate factions would duke it out against each other in a bitter struggle for supremacy that left the rest of the Jupiter Outback safe. At worst, either Black or Gloria gained ultimate supremacy over a united collective of pirates with the power to direct them against any who bore their ire. Swapping the old Admiral with this dangerous woman might not be a good idea, even if Io might feel relieved to turn an enemy over to their side.

"This is above my pay grade." Harry admitted bluntly. He felt completely out of his depth now, though he was partly relieved he managed to entice Gloria enough to divert her from attacking his weakened forces. "I'll have to refer you to my immediate superior back in Io, Director Stanley. You can hammer out a deal with him directly."

With nothing left to discuss, the two stood up from their chairs and shook each other's hands. Gloria's grip was iron hard but Harry didn't allow himself to be consumed in that petty contest. He merely maintained a weak but pleasant smile. "Good day. I hope you can come to terms with our side."

"I hope so too." Captain Gloria uttered. Before she turned to go, she had one more thing to say. Her fingers dug into Harry's skin and kept him captive to the moment. "But don't think I forgot the humiliation you heaped on me. No matter what deal I'll strike with Io, I'll be sure to include one non-negotiable demand."

"…And what is that?"

She let go of his hand, allowing him to snake back his bruised and burning limb. "Payback." The captain said, then turned around and left the chamber.

Somehow, Harry felt utterly defeated. While it didn't appear like it, he felt as if Gloria ran rings around him. Only his age and experience kept him from completely losing it, but in his long life he never dealt much with diplomacy. He was used to being top dog, lording over defeated wizards and witches. Negotiating with equals was something he had precious little experience. It was something he desperately needed to shore up if he intended to survive in this hostile, shark-filled solar system.

* * *

"You made the right choice." Selner advised her master as Harry angrily flung his cup of liquor away. He paced around his quarters in a swell of fury that the doctor found misguided. "You saved many lives today that would have otherwise fallen. You should be proud."

The wizard smiled sardonically at those words. "Proud? Proud?! I had to debase myself in front of scum, and I had to do it with a smile. I wish to Merlin that I could simply choke the life out of that bitch!"

That Gloria managed to deduce that nEMP would make most of his spells impotent against her was a further defeat. Sure, he could conjure a rock above her head and kill her indirectly, but that wouldn't have avoided battle. Worse, Gloria implicitly hung it over him as a threat. While she left few clues of her intentions, he was sure he understood her that much at least. _'If I do anything funny, she going to reveal my weakness to nEMP to the entire solar system. Every fucking muggle from Admiral Wellesley to even the most poorly equipped pirates will be able to neutralize my advantages.'_

Until Harry and his research team manage to figure out a countermeasure against nEMP, he had no choice but keep his head down and bide his time.

"Not every battle has to be won with brute strength." His female concubine continued without fault. "Compromises might leave a bitter taste in your mouth, but if you look at it objectively, you lost nothing material. If Director Stanley's negotiations with Captain Gloria bears fruit, both of you stand to gain something."

Harry didn't feel he gained anything from the exchange. "Any word so far on that?"

"Nothing as far as we can discern. Gloria is communicating directly to Io through military-grade encryption over the solarnet. I've been informed by Captain Claris that we can crack the code, but by then we'd be a few months older."

In other words, nothing. Harry felt more impotent by the minute. Despite his anger at the situation, Selner did not worry too much about a backlash. All was going according to plan in her mind. _'Oh Harry, you've become so used to getting your way through violence. You have to learn to make friends and find ways of achieving your goals through cooperation.'_

While the dreadful war between Io-Europan and the Callisto-Ganymede inexorably pulled her mighty master into further bloodshed, she felt emboldened in her ability to steer Harry away from the path of destruction. With Star's tacit cooperation and Amande pulling the strings at home, Selner had reasons to feel confident in her overarching plan to reform the powerful wizard into a force of peace. While plenty of people would laugh at the impossibility of it, the woman always held out hope that there was a light buried deep within the boy. His softening outlook – while imperceptible to most – was as clear as day to her whenever she saw him in his few moments of interacting with his adoptive daughter. She only hoped Amande would grow less prude and produce a real heir someday to melt Harry's heart.

'_It's taken too long as it is. I'll have to take drastic action next time we return to port. This matter can't be delayed any longer.'_

Finally tired of walking around, Harry stopped and dropped himself onto his bed next to Selner. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're probably right. I've realized just right now that I've been wasting too much time in this war and let my real priorities slide. Those bastards who stole my eye probably have enough time to figure out how to use my stolen magic. If they're any half-way decent, they've probably taken control over all of Earth's ruling corporations, if they haven't done it already. If I have any chance of taking back my eye, I need more than the _Immortal Marauder_ and whatever handful of ships I can scrounge up. Nothing less than full-scale war against Earth will suffice in bringing back my magic."

"I'm not sure I follow you there, dear." Selner stuttered, taken aback by the notion of going to war against Earth of all planets. That was practically suicide! More distressingly, that was not where she intended Harry to lead. How in Mercury did he make that jump?

"You know how a couple of distant descendants of mine organize themselves into a dozen groups, right?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"I need to form a coalition of my own if I want to be able to stand a chance against Earth." And as soon as he said it, Harry felt more right about this course of action. "The only way to match Earth's might is if I can match their ships and manpower. And if the Bones line manages to spread my magic to the rest of their ilk, I'll need footsoldiers of my own to match their wizards and witches. I'll have to convince the other Wizarding lines to join my side."

This sounded further and further from what Selner hoped, but she dared not to object to it openly. "I don't know much about the magical side of your life, sir, but I can imagine they will demand magic of their own. How.. how will you be able to keep their loyalty once they have what they want?"

That was a difficult question, and one that Harry couldn't answer. "I'll figure something out. But one thing's relatively clear: the genie is out of the bottle."

* * *

The negotiation stretched out for several days, which came as a welcome surprise to Harry and his crew. They used the precious time to patch up the _Immortal Marauder_ and prepare additional defenses if it came to battle. Each hour that passed without news was a heartfelt relief for Harry's desperate men and women. Captain Claris did all she could in expediting the repairs, forgoing hasty efforts in order to bring the ship up to strength. Captain Sainte-Marie on the other hand did a fine job in managing the pirates, making sure they contributed their fair share while making sure they didn't mutiny or desert.

Only Captain Long of the Dust Devils proved to be a disappointment. Harry figured he never really gotten over the loss of the _Fairweather_ and her crew. Captain Quinn did her best in picking up the slack, lending their valuable highly skilled engineers to the task of refitting the outpost to their needs. Their heavily-armed marine patrols along with Harry's own marines also helped keep the pirates in line. The fact that all of those hardened soldiers served under Harry strengthened his position and provided daily proof that he was capable of meeting any threat on the ground.

Then, finally, word from Io came back. Harry returned to his quarters and accepted the highly-encrypted transmission.

"Commodore Harry."

"Director Stanley." Harry greeted his superior amiably, though with an undercurrent of dread. "I take it you've finished hammering out a deal with Captain Gloria."

Due to the distances involved, it actually took a large handful of seconds for the light of the transmission to travel back and forth. That Harry had to wait until his words reached Stanley, and wait again for his boss' own statements travel back to him took considerable patience.

"Indeed we have. It is a complex arrangement, but nonetheless bears immediate relevance to your current mission and disposition. Although," His mouth curled into disapproval. "I would have appreciated more frequent status updates. This opportunity, though unwelcome, came as a complete surprise to my analysts. I don't like to be surprised again. From now on, you will check back to me each standard week. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Harry expected as much, though the order was still a bitter pill to swallow. "About the agreement?"

Another short delay passed as electromagnetic signals travelled back and forth across millions of kilometers. "Yes. As I've said, the ultimate accommodation we have reached with Captain Gloria is not straightforward, and some of the details will remain classified to you. Suffice to say, we have essentially agreed to grant her and her coterie a full pardon for any crimes they have committed in the past, while she has agreed to lend her forces and more importantly her influence to our war effort. Her ultimate goal is to take over the Nation of Jovia from the Callistoan Maffia, and she has agreed to pledge her support to our alliance if Io and Europa recognizes Jovia as a legitimate state."

"And you are going to follow through with that absurdity of giving pirates their own sovereignty?"

"Beggers can't be choosers, Commodore Harry. The long-term problems we will undoubtedly face with an organized collective of pirates in our backyard pales in comparison to a united front of those very same pirates in league with our mortal enemies. Once Callisto and Ganymede are fully subdued, the balance of power will decisively shift away from Jovia. Prime Minister Anastasia will find an appropriate solution by that time."

The director was right. This didn't immediately impact Harry's condition.

"Now, I'm sure you're growing impatient, so I'll cut to the chase. After some deliberation with my staff, I have decided that you will act as a liaison to Captain Gloria for the remainder of this campaign." Anticipating an immediate outburst from Harry, the director held up his hand. "Hear me out first. We need someone to keep the captain aligned to our cause, and as a former pirate yourself, you are the most suitable asset in direct contact right now. Other than your habit of maintaining little contact with headquarters, you have performed an excellent job in converting your captives into an effective fighting force and securing our vital mining assets in the Darwin cluster. We will need your proven capability in managing pirates to impress Captain Gloria of our might and insure she will honor our agreement."

Harry wanted nothing to do with Captain Gloria. The woman gave him the creeps, and he didn't relish working together with her on a day-to-day basis. At least the long time-day allowed him to cool off his impulses. "Very well. I'll do it sir, but you better appreciate the fucking trouble I'm doing keeping that murderous bitch on a leash."

"We are aware of your difficulties." Stanley nodded. "As a recognition of your success and the importance of the opportunity Gloria provides us, no matter how faint it is, I have dispatched a flotilla of frigates as reinforcements to bolster your strength. They shall naturally serve under your command, though they are reservists rather than Dust Devils or front-line spacers. It's all I can spare for you at this time. Hopefully you can stiffen them up over the course of this campaign."

The gift came as a sudden, but welcome surprise to Harry. He wasn't often used to receiving recognition for his results. His opinion of Director Stanley grew by the minute. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the aid, and a couple of Ioan regulars, no matter how green they are, will help me keep control."

He already had a tenuous hold on the captured pirates he managed to collect so far. Keeping them in line with slave collars and sporadic marine supervision only went so far. If they perceived any weakness, Harry had no doubt they'd stab him in the back. With the extra frigate reinforcements, he could at least persuade Captain Gloria that it wasn't a good idea to take over his pirate flotilla.

The unassuming director looked uneasy then, as if he was unwilling to say his next words. "There is one.. additional.. stipulation in our agreement with Captain Gloria that pertains to your immediate.. well-being. She was quite adamant in this, and despite the generous concessions we have offered her to drop her demand, she is plainly threatening to scuttle the deal if she does not have her way. Captain Harry.. I'm sorry, but for the good of Io, I will have to ask a sacrifice from you. It gives me no pleasure to order you this, but I must insist you cooperate with Gloria in this matter. Lives are at here, and if the good captain succeeds in her long-shot, the war is turned almost decisively in our favor."

Remembering Gloria's vague words, Harry started to have an inkling on where this was heading. There could be no other reason why Stanley was prefacing his announcement with so many meaningless words. "What is it you wish for me to do, director?"

"I can't put it any gentler than this, captain. Gloria wants to invite you over to her private suite aboard the _Mirrored Abyss _and.. sodomize you for a minimum of an hour."

No words came out of Harry's mouth at that revelation. He dreaded Gloria would use her leverage to demand something humiliating, but this was beyond the pale.

"She claims she has an artificial bio-phallus that she is very eager to use on you, and.. well, It's best I not elaborate. Captain Gloria promises not to inflict permanent harm, and use all the necessary lubrication and anti-bacterial creams to keep the.. intercourse.. from generating side-effects."

"Stop it, please." Harry responded, holding up one hand in a stop while palming the other against his tired eyes. "I don't need to hear more about it. Fuck."

'_So this is why Stanley is so willing to provide me with reinforcements. It's a bribe, telling me to deal with this shit. Well it's not his asshole that's on the fucking line here!'_

"You owe me one." He said, once he managed to regain a semblance of control. His eyes glowered at the image of the bureaucrat sitting millions of kilometers away, safe in Io and without a care in the world. "I'm not going to protest this stupid order, but you _owe_ me one, you hear?"

The growl in Harry's words succeeded in cowing Stanley, enough to grant this small, additional concession. "If there is anything else you need along your campaign, I'll provide any assistance that I can spare. Your.. efforts.. are potentially vital to our war effort. Make sure Captain Gloria finds no cause for complaint."

In other words, give Gloria a marvelous good time.

Disgusted, Harry cut off the feed without taking the time to say goodbye before screaming his rage against the ceiling.

* * *

The additional frigates – totaling a significant number of eight – arrived remarkably swiftly, less than a day after the transmission. They came racing down Hancock Outpost directly through Io's Gravitic Catapult. Even more welcome was the large supply ship that accompanied the flotilla, bringing an extensive amount of spare parts and other materials to renovate the base and convert it into a capable staging post to support further action in neighboring clusters. Commodore Harry spent little time in greeting the frigate captains, relying on Captain Claris and Captain Long to take care of integrating the reinforcements into his regime.

Instead, he spent the majority of his attention to his upcoming doom. He kept his lips tight, of course, not even daring to spill anything to his most trusted comrades. While he briefly supposed he could benefit from Selner's medical advice, he was too ashamed to open his mouth. As the clock ran down to the agreed time for his upcoming 'visit' aboard Gloria's flagship, he belatedly browsed a few articles on the distasteful subject and made sure to be as clean as possible.

At the time of his reckoning, Harry left his ship aboard a shuttle piloted by an Ioan lieutenant he didn't know. His subordinates all thought this was merely a social visit, an opportunity to thaw the tensions between the two disparate fleets and break the ice. _'Oh, there will be some breaking tonight, but it's not the ice that will crack.'_

When he sidled into the _Mirrored Abyss_'s modest shuttle bay, he came face to face with his impending tormentor. Captain Gloria awaited his arrival with eager anticipation. Her open smirk grew positively delightful as she threw him a casual salute. Her other hand cradled a pair of credit cubes. "Commodore Harry. Finally we meet again. I wish it were in better circumstances, but who knows where circumstances leads us? Come right this way please, sir."

The captain turned around and led Harry further into the bellows of her renowned ship. All the while, Harry couldn't help but tease his eyes towards Gloria's figure. Her uniform appeared to be extra-tight this close, and he was temporarily flummoxed at the rather blatant way she flaunted her figure at him. She turned around at him and gave him a knowing wink. "I'm sure you remember the day you took advantage of my body years ago at the Excelsior Club. I certainly haven't forgotten that moment. Have you enjoyed the memories of that moment?"

The half-forgotten images of that primal victory seemed remarkably pale at this moment of doom. Harry couldn't dredge up sufficient enthusiasm to match Gloria's playful taunts. "I suppose it's too late to say sorry."

The laugh that erupted from Gloria's mouth poured out in a stream of melodic joy. If it were of any other subject, Harry would have found the laugh to be pleasing to his ears. All it did now though was to further his nervousness. The woman threw her credit cubes in the air as she responded to his lame remark.

"You've got to be joking. Harry, Harry, Harry, if there's one thing about pirates you should know, it's that we always play dirty. Oh, I'll abide by the agreement I've made with your government, but that doesn't mean I get to exact my pound of flesh from you in the process."

Along the way they passed by a couple of Claris' crewmen. Like her, they wore a neat ensemble of dark uniforms, distinguished in ways that didn't make any sense to Harry. One thing was clear though. Despite their outward discipline, they all looked at Harry with less-than-serious expressions. It quickly dawned on Harry why.

"You.. fuc.. you.. you told them about this!"

Gloria twinkled her eyes at her in mock innocence. "Oh, I didn't know you wanted to keep your little visit here under wraps. I keep few secrets among my crew, you know."

'_Merlin, kill me now.'_ If the entire ship knew about the humiliation Gloria was about to heap on him, that meant the news would soon spread to other ships, including his own. By the end of the week probably everyone who gave a care in the solar system would know that the indomitable Captain Gloria ravaged his puckered rear.

The commodore was tempted to activate a discreet portkey he had embedded into his skin, or just fling a wave of raw magic at the bitch walking next to him. Yet he kept his impulses under control. It wouldn't do to renege on this deal. While Stanley's reinforcements helped shift the balance in his favor, he wouldn't be doing the director a favor in sabotaging a golden opportunity. Harry was committed to this course of action now, and barring some unforeseen betrayal from Gloria, all he could do now was bend over and take it, literally.

They finally arrived at Gloria's quarters. A troop of heavy-armed boarders stood patiently in the corridor, causing Harry to take note.

"They'll be standing outside for.. insurance. I'll have you know they are well equipped in conventional and nEMP capabilities. If you pull off anything suspicious, they have orders to take you out.. without restrictions."

With that potent warning in mind, they stepped inside the quarters. A petite, blond lieutenant awaited her captain's arrival. "Captain, I've readied all of the accessories. They're in top condition, ma'm."

"Excellent work, Lieutenant Berkely. Please undress once you have finished your final preparations."

"I thought this would be just between the two of us." Harry gritted out. The mere thought of facing not one, but two… it gave him the shivers. "You didn't say anything about including a third participant."

"Oh don't be so melodramatic, my dear commodore. She's not going to play the aggressor here if that's what you're worrying about. In fact, I'm sure you'll change your mind about her soon enough. Consider her a consolation price of a sorts. I'm not entirely without mercy."

The officer finished her final preparations and stepped away to reveal the object of Harry's worst nightmares. Gloria's artificial organ stood erect in proud defiance against the force of gravity. The length appeared to be mercifully.. reasonable, although he couldn't say the same about its girth. Fleshy tendrils expanded from the base, currently spread around the table like a squid with its tentacles firmly attached to a rock. Gloria approached the erotic toy with a seductive sway, and upon reaching it she casually unzipped her vacsuit.

Despite the attractive visage Gloria's rear body presented, Harry felt more and more ice through his veins as he saw her detach the organ from the table and attach it to her crotch. From all the articles he read on the solarnet, the object was capable of simulating touch to a remarkable degree of accuracy through the artificial nerves attached to the base. Gloria would be feeling as much pleasure Harry felt when he violated her body, if not more.

"Hm?" The captain murmured as she flipped behind her head. "What are you waiting for? Get rid of that vacsuit. We don't need any clothes for the next sixty minutes."

Growling helplessly, Harry nevertheless did as she instructed. He sat back onto her bed, feeling painfully exposed and feeling even more ashamed as his tool grew at the sight of two undressed ladies.

"Looks like our guest is in the mood, ma'm." Berkeley remarked with a tone that would have otherwise earned a slap from Harry.

The female captain turned around and sauntered closer to her helpless victim with her addition swinging in the air. "We can't be too eager now, can we? Let's not be too hasty here. Be a dear, Harry, and kneel to the ground. Let's put your mouth to work."

* * *

**End Notes: **No comment.


	62. II: New Paradigms

April 6, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: Looks like I touched a few nerves with my last update. Some of you want explanations, but I won't say anything about the direction of this story, other than to note that I have made my choices. I'm not going to say anything more than this to anyone besides telling my story.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_New Paradigms_

* * *

Shame. Complete and utter shame enveloped Harry's psyche ever since he left the _Mirrored Abyss_ and returned to Hancock and his own ship in disgrace. None of his crewmen had any inkling of what he suffered, but Gloria's indiscretion was sure to reach them soon enough. What would they think about a man violated in ways that men should never endure? Even with the remarkably relaxes social mores of this age, it was still unusual enough to see bedroom relationships reverse.

The potential impact to his reputation was certainly catastrophic. He had fought back hard against his youthful outer appearance, proving himself to be hard and merciless countless of times over. To see that progress ruined due to a single hour of unrelenting humiliation was an eternal regret. Gloria had done her best to strip him from his dignity and exact a cruel penance. Just the thought of her made him shiver, though not for the most obvious of reasons. For during that fated hour of tormented lust, the female captain deconstructed him in the cruelest way possible.

She didn't ravage him violently as he once did to her. Neither did she act overly aggressive and demean him verbally or physically. Instead, she gained her ultimate revenge by doing the impossible.

Captain Gloria made him like it.

Just admitting it brought him a fresh bout of loathing. But he couldn't deny it, not after the many times he howled in demented ecstasy. Only the most heartless and sadistic people in the solar system could so thoroughly disarm his violent spirit with sensual touches and gentle ministrations. With soft caresses and motherly tones, both Gloria and Berkeley managed to pierce his manhood in ways no hardened rapist could surpass in any shape or form. Harry of the Noble House of Antares, Master of Death and the only legitimate heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, Commodore of the Dust Devils and commander of a swarm of around a hundred individual ships, felt he had utterly failed as a man.

He locked himself in his quarters for days on end, turning off any and all communications and prayed the outside world would leave him alone. He didn't even let in his concubine and pet no matter how long they knocked at his door. Selner and Star probably heard what happened by now, and were probably looking to console him. Yet the wizard never let them through. What was the point? Even if he could unleash his sexual frustrations on his two gorgeous consorts, it didn't mean anything. Just beating his chest with his fists and acting all caveman just couldn't wipe away the dreadful memories that he unwillingly imprinted into his memory.

And for what? _'Because of the ships, and the recognition.'_ While Director Stanley hadn't made it explicitly clear, Harry was sure the Ioan only sent the eight frigates to him as a bribe. If he refused to play along and make his nation for a fool, then he might not have gotten the much-needed reinforcements. On paper, it sounded like a good deal. He only had to get screwed once in exchange for valuable ships and some goodwill from his superiors.

On paper at least. Reality was a tad bit more harsh, especially considering the way Gloria completely dominated him in her bedroom. _'Damnit, why did I play along with all of her games?'_ It made him shudder to think that at the end of the session, he had to be reminded by her that his one hour in hell was up. If she hadn't been so courteous.. _'I could have been stuck there all night.'_

Eventually, his self-isolation came at an end when Claris ordered the intelligence department to bypass the controls of his quarters. While outright hacking of crystalline-based systems was difficult, there were ways to trick them without causing damage by using a clever combination of deactivating power and substitution of components. It took thirty minutes for the technicians to unlock the doors, granting the captain of the _Immortal Marauder_ entry into the dark and silent chamber.

Her steps echoed softly across the matte surface of the floor paneling. The raven-haired officer carefully avoided stepping in the middle of the arcane ritual circles that dotted the entire room, and came to a stop in front of the ruffled and unkempt bed. Claris gazed upon her defeated superior, noting that he hadn't shaved in days.

"Commodore Harry."

"Go away, Claris." The slim figure buried between layers of sheets growled back.

It hurt her to see him devolve into a shell of his former glory. Where was the overconfident magician she had come to admire so much?

"Sir, you have been absent for several days. I've managed to get by so far by reorganizing our task force to incorporate our reinforcements, but this can't go on forever. Captain Gloria's fleet finished refueling a few hours ago and they are itching to leave and gather more allies amongst other pirate task forces."

A tired sigh escaped from the bed. "So what do you need me for?"

"We need you.. to command us, sir. You are the commander of our task force. I can't provide your naval elements with new deployment orders without your authorization."

"Claris, fuck that. You're my chief of staff, right? So go do whatever you want with my ships."

Now it was Claris' turn to sigh. She sat down at the side of the bed and softly brushed her palm over Harry's limp form. "Sir, even if your men obey my orders blindly, I still won't do it, because it's not in your best interest to be seen as absent. You are our _leader_, and you have to be out there to show you are capable of shepherding our lives. We have given our oaths to you in exchange for fealty, but we demand that you are capable of living up to your promises."

"Hahaha!" The depressed wizard shot out with an icy undertone. "How can I lead my men when I can't even safeguard my fucking bum? I'm a failure."

The pure self-loathing that her leader espoused hit a nerve on the loyal officer. Something snapped within her, causing her to stand up and rip the sheets from Harry's naked and pathetic body. Harry instantly cringed at the exposure and tried to curl up into himself, only for Claris to slam against his body and forcefully spread apart his arms.

"You're wrong!" She hammered out of her mouth, trying her very best not to scream. "You're anything but a failure. So you've encountered a setback. So what? You haven't lost anything that really matters. You still have your magic, you still possess one of the largest light task force in the Jupiter Outback and you've managed to secure an alliance with a faction of the enemy. Don't tell me that's a failure."

The defeated commander looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes. "B-But.. Gloria.. she.."

Claris released one of her palms and slapped Harry hard. "Captain Gloria has been very capricious in paying back all the hurt you've given her, but if she managed to climb out of her own self-wallowing, than so can you! If you fall into a depression like Captain Long, then all you're doing is handing her the ultimate victory. Don't give her the satisfaction of success. The fight is not lost. Go back outside and _lead_ us like you've always had, for Mercury's sake!"

When Harry remained unresponsive, Claris grabbed his chin and forced him to confront her, and through her, the rest of the solar system.

And then she kissed him.

This definitely caught his attention, and as he felt his chief subordinate's tongue aggressively probing the insides of his mouth, a fire began to stir inside of him. After several long seconds of tonguing, Claris finally released his captive mouth.

"Wh.. Why?"

"Because I love you, damnit. I always loved you."

The revelation jarred Harry. He always felt something for his beautiful pirate officer, but somehow he never really strayed into his undeniable attraction to her. Now, with his neither regions beginning to respond to this highly compromising position, he wondered why he never acted on it. He had to admit Selner and Star were two huge distractions, but at this point in time, he realized he might have been kidding himself. Even this close without his glasses on, he could see that Claris was beauty personified. She possessed curves like Selner's, but nagged a lot less. Her figure radiated gorgeousness, but without Star's unnatural perfection. And unlike Amande, he never experienced the nagging sense of duplicity when he talked to Claris.

Her beautifully sculpted face stared down at him, half-angry, half-embarrassed. From her elegantly slanted eyes that betrayed a distant Asian heritage to her remarkably defined dimples, her every feature endeared her to him. As heartbeats passed, her face turned more uncertain, as if regretting her impromptu admission.

Then a long-dormant brunette flashed before his eyes, her empty eyes looking up at him with her lips open in eternal anguish. _'My wife.' _He recoiled from the memory, which unfortunately sent the wrong signal to the woman hovering on top of him. He shook himself. He felt as if he was betraying his long-dead wife for feeling the same way about Claris as he felt for her so long ago. He realized now that was why he always pushed his attractions for Claris away. _'I'm such a fool.'_

Harry smiled at her, and lifted up his head to meet her in another kiss. This one was softer and less urgent, as if they were exploring each other's touch for the very first time. He felt anguished when Claris had started to tear up, and happiness when she kissed him back in relief. If that was not love, what was? Yet the images of two women flashed before him again, his _old_ wife and his _current_ wife, and he pulled back from the pleasurable connection.

"I…" He panted, trying to make sense of his confusing swirl of emotions. "I'm not sure of myself.. but.. I think I can learn to.. reciprocate.."

The contented smile she gave him warmed his chest and brought him back from the dark of his earlier depression.

"Just give me some time, will you?"

She nodded, and oh-so-delicately rubbed her waist against his excited organ. "I'll be sure to speed that up."

The woman jumped off from the bed and composed herself. "Anyway, sir, that still leaves the problems caused by your absence. Please dress yourself and act according to your rank. I know what Gloria has done to your reputation is awful, but those are the risks of pursuing fame and fortune."

The commodore's frown returned. "And I'm just supposed to pretend it never happened? That none of my subordinates and enemies know that a woman bottomed me out?"

"Sir.." She pressed with considerable patience. "I'm not very good at this. I'm not the sort of person who seeks the limelight. But what I do know is that humans are driven not by truth, but by perception. Act like a weakling, and they will believe you are unfit. Act like a commander, and they will believe they can trust their lives to you."

His chief of staff turned and strutted to the exit, giving Harry an excellent view of her vacsuited rear. As she passed through the lip of the door, she looked back towards him, giving him a predatory look. "Act like a god, and soon you will have the entire solar system beneath your feet."

The door wooshed shut.

* * *

Harry had a lot to think about. He lingered a while, gathering his thoughts and trying to digest Claris' words. Then he made up his mind and lifted himself from his bed. He trudged towards his bathroom and took a long, refreshing shower. The shower module was top of the line, and dried his body off instantly after the shower routine finished. Even cleaning his teeth was a high-tech affair where he let a pill-sized pair of bots crawl inside his mouth and thoroughly disinfect it from any bacteria and blemishes.

Dressing was a short affair. Even though one of his subordinates bought him a whole range of costumes, Harry tended to pick practical vacsuits with lots of pockets in order to store his weapons and gadgets. He swept one glance at his old wizarding clothes, but left them in the closet. He wasn't just an outlaw wizard anymore. He was a commodore, a naval officer who commanded thousands of men and women. He needed to dress the part and act the role.

After he stepped outside his chamber, he turned to the bridge, only to stop for a moment. _'There's no hurry.'_ Instead, Harry turned back to the nearest elevator and went down a few decks below in order to head to the mess hall. It was a highly unusual departure of his routine, as he preferred to have his meals in private, but he decided he needed to be seen.

So it was with pin-dropping silence that he stepped within the larger spacious chamber and neatly approached the cafeteria line. The dumb-struck off-duty personnel automatically parted before him until he reached the very front. The cook seemed to suffer from a malfunctioning jaw.

"Hmm, what do you have for today?"

"Commodore.." The lowly assistant stammered. "The head chef normally prepares all your meals. Shall I summon him and—"

"Oh, don't bother. I feel like having fish for today." Harry gestured to a pre-prepared tray. "Lemme have that."

"Certainly, sir."

Once Harry took hold of his tray (and took curious note that it could be stayed aloft by gravitic modules built inside of them), he took a seat somewhere in the middle of the hall, so that every eating crewman could see the captain plainly.

Then he ate. Harry deliberately slowed down his pace, and tried to conduct himself with as much dignity as possible. Conversation slowly picked up, but continued to be muted to a level far below what was usually custom in the normally relaxed environment. This Harry did deliberately, as a way of imposing himself into their personal space to test the waters and see whether his presence intimidated them. From their hesitant looks and astute avoidance of any talk concerning him, he concluded he still had the touch. A tepid smile appeared on his face. _'They won't think of anything else about me as long as they're still afraid.'_

He felt a bit more comfortable now. Rather than facing mocking comments or stupid looks, he still held their respect. This was the natural order of things. Perhaps Claris was right. As long as Harry acted as if nothing changed, nothing would change. Though he was world-weary enough to know that the stain on his reputation will never disappear, perhaps he could bury it beneath his past and future actions. As the wizard slowly finished up his meal, he was already contemplating his first few steps on what to do with his task force in light of Director Stanley's orders.

After leaving the mess hall, Harry slowly trudged his way back to the upper decks towards the bridge. He sensed an air of energy as crewmen walked past him, engrossed in their own duties. He passed a few damaged sections along the way that the house-elves hadn't fixed yet. It saddened him to see his powerful vessel scarred. The _Immortal Marauder_ was his first proper starship he earned for himself. He imagined sailing to the ends of the solar system with his trusted lady. Now though, he doubted she'd last the war. The conflict was too intense and the enemies he faced were too powerful for him to think he could come out on top all the time.

"Commodore." Claris nodded to him after he entered the bridge and took up the seat next to hers. "Your task force awaits your orders."

Harry calmly worked the interface of his officer's seat and called up his latest orders as well as overall status reports. "Hmm, looks like headquarters wants us to hunker down to defend the Darwin Sector, but also send along a sizable force to accompany Gloria's fleet."

That meant he had to split up his entire force in two. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with that at all, especially since his subordinates had a tendency to take their autonomy too far.

"I've taken the liberty of composing two task forces, Harry." Claris said, and called up the two lists showing ship assignments. "Task Force Alpha will accompany Captain Gloria, and comprises of the _Immortal Marauder_, three of the eight new frigates, and about half of our corvettes. Task Force Beta has the two Q-ships and the remaining frigates and corvettes and will stay behind to defend this sector."

"Interesting setup. The two forces are about equal in power."

"In order to show our commitment to Gloria's cause, we have to provide her with an detachment that can at least hurt them if they decide to cross us. On the other hand, we still need to keep sufficient elements in the Darwin Cluster to deter most pirates from conducting raids. I'm not too comfortable with the assignments, though. We're diluting our strength."

That was as clear as day. With a fleet of forty assorted ships, he could deal with any decent threat imaginable short of a military fleet. Now that he was forced to split his forces in two, neither of the new task forces could be expected to hold their own in the event of a major assault. And that wasn't the only thing he doubted.

"I take it that I'll be leading Alpha. But who will lead Beta?"

"That's one of the decisions I left to you, sir."

'_Great.'_ Harry grumbled, already weighing possibilities in his mind. While he didn't expect Beta to get into trouble during the time he and Alpha wandered the Outback, he still needed someone reliable to hold the fort. If he wanted the absolute best for the job, he'd pick Claris. _'But I need her myself. No one else knows the Maddie as well as her, and I won't trust this ship to one of those Ioan naval officers.'_

That left other captains. Captain Quinn of the _Laurentine II_ seemed to know her business, though Captain Long of the _Dunbatton_ exhibited more leadership potential if he managed to ever dig himself out of his funk. Then there was Captain Sainte-Marie, who he wasn't really sure he wanted to leave behind in Beta. Harry smelled the ambition in her, but if he chose a pirate captain as the commander of the task force, he'd have hell to pay.

"My gut tells me to give it to Sainte-Marie."

That certainly drew Claris' attention. "I beg your pardon, sir? Are you sure you want her to represent you? She's barely in your company for a month. Furthermore, she's a corvette captain. She won't earn much respect at all. If you decide to put her forward, your men will think your judgment may have been.. biased."

Considering Sainte-Marie's spunky allure, he was sure Claris meant he granted the pirate a promotion for her bedroom qualifications as opposed to her combat credentials. Yet the more doubts he heard, the more he grew confident in his impulsive decision. "I'm not going to hand over half of my force to any of those Ioan flunkies. Quinn and Long are decent enough, but I don't really know if they're in Wellesley's pockets. At least with Sainte-Marie all I have to take into account is her self-interest. She's a bright one, and she's not going to sit tight and play it safe."

"Beta's mission involves holding this cluster and securing the mines. Do you want an inexperienced risk taker in command?"

"Claris, I don't give a rat's ass about those extra-solar materials. If Sainte-Marie screws up, I can blame it on her." Harry slowly grinned. "But if she somehow achieves a measure of success in harassing enemy trade routes, then it'll be another thing to distinguish myself in this war."

Eventually, Claris gave up on convincing Harry. As soon as the both of them finalized on the list of assignments, the captain sent it out to the rest of the fleet. Harry addressed the newly assigned commander of twenty warships personally.

"Sir?" The young pirate looked at him in surprise. Even she didn't imagine to be thrust from the lowest rung of captains to the enviable position of commanding an entire task force. "I can't say I expected this, but are you certain? I.. I'm not sure I can maintain authority.."

"I know you can do the job and keep my men in line." Harry replied without any worry. "I'll assign you as the base commander of Hancock Outpost. That should give anyone who wants to question your authority some pause."

"I.. Thank you Commodore Harry. I'm honored. I'll be sure to run the place smoothly."

Nodding, Harry sent over a few documents to her terminal. "Good. I'm not going to restrict you and give you a pile of useless orders. I've sent you our overall directive that headquarters in Io expects us to follow, but beyond that you're free to use the assets that I place in your care as you see fit. I'll be looking forward to what you'll be able to achieve."

The smile he gave her was sincere, but also signaled that he expected substantial results. From the way Sainte-Marie was still taken aback at her sudden promotion, she might not have gotten the message yet, but she would in time. Harry cut off the comm feed and drummed his fingers against his seat rest.

"Send a query to Captain Gloria and ask her when she wants to move out."

Wherever Gloria wanted to go, Harry would follow, and make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain. He would keep a very close eye on her no matter what kind of tricks she pulled. If it turned out that Gloria never really intended to honor her deal to Io, then he'd kill her himself, nEMP or not. _'I didn't let myself get screwed in the ass for nothing. I'm not that cheap.'_

* * *

As expected, not everyone took their new assignments well. Captain Long immediately complained about Harry's choice of letting Sainte-Marie in charge of Task Force Beta, and so did a few other Ioan captains from the new frigates. Harry admitted that it was a bit improper and that he completely disregarded naval traditions.

"But get this in your mind, Captain Long. This is not your precious navy. I signed up with Director Stanley because he doesn't give a fuck about tradition."

That wasn't his gentlest rebuke by far, but Harry was tired of dealing with this shit. The burden of leadership weighed heavily on him, and recent events hadn't made him enthusiastic in these tasks. "What a bunch of whiny brats."

After putting down his squabbling officers, he finally got around to establishing a link to Gloria. The woman grinned at him from her throne.

"You're looking good today, Harry. Are you ready for round two?"

"This isn't the time for games. Tell me where you want to go next."

"Aggressive this time, huh?" She taunted him, causing Harry to grind his teeth in maddening frustration. At least she sent him her intended route. "I've been thinking of swinging round in neutral space, picking up a few strays along the way. But the big prize will be at the end."

A familiar space station appeared into view. It was much smaller than the formidable Trindebal Station where the Callistoan Mafia ruled the Jupiter Outback, but the base in question was still a formidable fortification in its own right. "Vlessing Base. I remember. That idiot Pierre surrounds himself with diamonds."

The wizard left out that Pierre was a Dolohov, though he didn't know whether the eccentric figure knew anything about magic. He already checked out the database constructed out of his family tree and Pierre's name wasn't on it. Then again, Pierre might just be his alias.

Gloria nodded indulgently. "And he's also one of my staunchest allies, so I have no intention of replacing him. Instead, we'll sneak up on his base, ambush any Callistoan patrols and allow Pierre's mercenaries to purge Admiral Black's men from within. Once I take control of Vlessing Base, it will be the rebellion's first refuge. Words will spread out soon enough, and pirates who are dissatisfied with the Mafia's power grab will flock towards me."

"Very impressive." Harry noted. _'And risky. I doubt the Callistoan Mafia will let that base stay in one piece once Admiral Black learns about what happened. It doesn't look like Gloria is stupid enough to forget that, so she must have something else up her sleeve.'_

Whatever it was that Gloria wanted to do, she needed his help. He turned to Claris. "Get me some details about Vlessing Base's defenses. I want to know how much resistance we might face."

"On it, sir."

Turning back to Gloria, Harry gave out a patient smile. "Very well, Captain. I think it's best if our two forces don't try and mingle with each other. My task force will follow your fleet at a short distance. We'll begin to move whenever you give the sign."

"We don't have to waste time, then. Prep your ships to depart in thirty minutes."

As soon as Gloria's face winked out, Harry let out a long breath. "Of all the people, why Pierre?"

Claris shrugged. "I didn't know he had any links with Gloria either. Their partnership is either recent, or.."

"Gloria hasn't been telling the truth." The Commodore concluded. It sounded like a stunt that the venomous bitch might pull on him. "How likely do you think she's pulling my leg?"

"It's very hard to obtain proof either way, sir. On the face of it, I think Gloria might well have a link with Pierre."

Great. Just great. On top of everything else, he had to take into account a potential complication after reaching Vlessing Base at the end of the journey. Personally, he didn't think that was too likely. He wasn't the best in judging other people, but from his interactions with her so far, he didn't get that particular vibe from Gloria. _'She's a vindictive one, but she has her honor.'_

Eventually, he put his concerns away for another time and left the bridge. He had a lot of work to do, beginning with asking Star whether she still has a line with the Malfoy-Delacours on Mars. If he wanted to fight the Bones' on Earth, he needed to bring at least matching firepower on the table. While he didn't expect immediate progress there, he was still curious whether the Malfoy-Delacours were hostile to him or not. _'If that dickwad Headmaster Malfoy had any hand in it, they'd probably join up with Earth to wipe me off the face of the galaxy.'_

Hopefully nine-hundred years of peace mellowed them out a bit. Regardless of their attitudes, Harry was certain that they'd snap up to help him once he offers them something every surviving wizard wanted: magic.

Empowering his former archenemy's descendants to pit them against his current enemies didn't seem like a wise choice. Yet the wizard knew that starships and other muggle contraptions had their limits. He needed to let go of the past. He only destroyed the channel of magic in the first place in order to win the war against the Wizarding World. Now that the Bones line had a piece of magic of their own, Harry was uncertain how they would use it. But if they managed to come up with a way to remove the blocks he imposed on the source of magic, then he wanted to be one step ahead of them and get all the remaining lines behind him before they reached out to others.

'_It's been long enough. The muggles have been messing around with the residue of magic for too long. It's about time magic returns to humanity.' _And unlike the idiots in the past, he wasn't going to hide it from the muggles. _'The Wizarding World collapsed due to its fossilized traditions. The new World will have to be stronger, strong enough not to resort to hiding as its greatest protection.'_

This was where the future was heading. The return of magic in the realm of human civilization was inevitable. The only uncertainty was whether Harry himself could guide that process in his favor.

Releasing magic to others was not without risk. Yet only by taking risks could Harry ever hope to overcome the murky forces arrayed against him. If that meant losing control over a precious resource, then so be it. He could deal with jealous wizards and witches trying to usurp him from his rightful place.

At least he hoped so.

* * *

**End Notes:** Some of you have been asking where the uncensored version of this story is located. Well, I've removed them some a few months ago from other fanfiction sites because I don't want to have different versions of the same story floating around. Besides the lemons, there's nothing worthwhile in the old version of _The Star Empire_.


	63. II: Testing the Waters

April 17, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Testing the Waters_

* * *

"I'm not sure my benefactors are willing to.. negotiate with you." Star answered Harry's abrupt question. Her eyes guardedly shifted to Claris, who was idly stroking Harry's lap. "The Malfoy-Delacours maintain a stance of caution and patience. It is the only way they have maintained prominence at Mars. I doubt they would immediately leap at your offer to grant them a modicum of magic, though there might be factions within the family who may prove more eager than others."

Harry nodded absently as he lay on Claris' couch staring up at the ceiling projection of the Milky Way galaxy. This was his first time in her personal quarters, and he found her elaborate comforts to be highly relaxing. "It doesn't matter if the Malfoy-Delacour line comes to me wholesale just yet. I just want a big enough chunk of magic potentates to serve as magical footsoldiers. With that in place, the rest of Mars will fall in line, whether they like it or not. I mean, who else are they going to turn to? Surely not Earth."

"It won't be an easy choice." His pet warned him with a grimace. She was less than pleased seeing Harry and Claris so intimate with each other. What use could she be if he started to get his jollies off elsewhere? Still, this was not the time to challenge her former tormentor. "The Malfoy-Delacours know their history. Your war against the ancient order of wizards is well-documented."

"Biased."

"Granted, but even then you are hardly a figure to put one's trust in." And that was putting it mildly, the Veela descendant thought. "Not all of the family elders will decide you are the lesser of two evils. If you wish to seriously pursue an alliance with my benefactors, then you will need to tread very cautiously."

"What will that entail, Star?"

She thought about it for a few seconds. "It will take time. We can't throw this issue onto the laps of the elders. The outrage will polarize the deliberations. I guess I can quietly approach a few of my superiors, introduce the details slowly so that they have time to.. adjust."

"You have my permission to use ship comm to talk with your people back on Mars. It's very important for me to learn whether they are receptive or not." Harry sighed a bit as Claris ruffled up his already messy hair. "And see if you can't find ways to contact the other remnant lines. We need to reach them before the Earthers do."

"I don't know how to communicate with them, master. The elders might know some of the other lines, but I wasn't that high-up in the chain of command."

The wizard waved his hand at her. "Use my family tree to find out who they are. I'm sure you can use the digitalized database together with the solarnet to tie things together."

"Will do, sir. Is there anything else you need?"

"Not at this moment. You are dismissed."

As Star left the quarters, Harry was finally alone again with his latest paramour. He felt strangely at peace in her presence, even more so than his other flings. He always felt that his bedtime together with Star and Selner was an exercise in relieving his frustration. With Claris however, he felt none of his carnal urges overtake his desire for companionship, even though he currently had a fantastic underside view of her bosom. _'There may be time for that later, I suppose. No sense in rushing a good vintage.'_

"So…" He began, trying to stir up a conversation. He knew his social skills weren't the best, especially since he spent most of his life in voluntary and involuntary isolation. It made him feel very inadequate besides his Second, who obviously behaved more adept among other people.

Luckily, Claris picked up his intention. "Is there anything you would like to ask?"

Many things, Harry admitted to himself, though he didn't want to pry. From all his observations of her so far, he imagined Claris to be a very private person. She cloaked herself in professionalism during her on-duty shifts and remained largely aloof during her off-time. It was an interesting dynamic, totally unlike Captain Gloria who reveled in blending business and pleasure. Yet, both of them appeared to have the same origins, a career in some military navy.

"Now that I think about it, I always wanted to know where you were from. What planet or colony made you who you are today?"

She smiled sardonically at him. "I never revealed that fact to anyone since my entry into piracy. It's.. not something I'd like to talk about, or remember for that matter. But.. I think you deserve to know. Only you."

It wasn't often that others gave Harry their trust. To hear that Claris elevated him above all others warmed his heart even further. He gave her an encouraging smile. "Go on, then. Tell me your story."

Her eyes gained a troubled quality, as if she somehow regretted this choice. Yet she pressed on nonetheless. "As you imagine, I came from a mildly distinguished family. Nothing like House Antares or the like, but my family a good fortune over the years."

The boy resting on her lap frowned at that. "So how did you end up in the military?"

"To understand that, you need to understand the planet where I grew up."

"Venus?" He guessed. Her good looks did seem to fit on the planet where everything was designed nowadays.

But Claris shook her head. "No. It's Mercury."

That put a halt to Harry's thoughts. Mercury. The first planet of the solar system, the one closest to the sun itself. While he hadn't enriched himself deeply within contemporary culture, he did hear his crewmen use the word 'Mercury' as a swear word, as if it was this age's version of hell. Considering the scorching temperatures that assaulted the primordial planet, that might very well be true.

"You don't know much about Mercury, do you Harry?"

"It never really crossed my mind."

"They aren't really relevant in solar politics, but that wasn't always the case." Claris leaned back, preparing to tell the tale of her home planet. "Once, long ago, when mankind spread across the solar system, people of that time imagined that a new age of rationality and enlightenment was at hand."

Harry scoffed at that. "They can't outrun their humanity."

"Indeed, tragically so. Not every colonist that settled the planets and moons came with new hopes and dreams. They also often brought their own beliefs with them. Mercury was a special destination among all other destinations. It was a planet devoid of life, yet also a planet abundant with energy. It made living there relatively cheap, but no one in their right mind considered it a paradise like Venus. Terraforming it was impossible. The only way to settle the planet was to burrow deep within the Earth, and build massive underground cities to shield the colonists from the fires of the sun."

"That mustn't have been a very nice place to live."

"It still isn't." She replied, then continued on with her story. "Initially, Mercury was a source of cheap resources. The people that arrived to work on the planet were at the bottom of the heap, costing very little for the megacorps to house, clothe and feed. This went on for a century or two, and the colony slowly grew to accommodate more middle-class immigrants who provided more support services."

"What changed, then?"

Her eyes hooded in disgust. "Then the crackpots came. The religious nuts, the sun-worshippers, they came out of nowhere but flooded Mercury in droves. While they still numbered very few in relation to Mercury's settled population, their ideas spread like wildfire. They believed that stars are the sources of life, and that our Sun is the entity that birthed life on Earth, and considered humanity to be the apex of our star's creation. There are a lot of other beliefs mingled in there, but that will take too long to explain. Anyway, the Solar Movement as it came to be known soon reached the highest layers of government, turning the entire planet into a temple devoted to the sun."

"That can't have been healthy."

"The rest of the solar system didn't notice us back then. We were just some backwater planet with a few screws loose. Then the First Terran-Martian War erupted. The conflict challenged Terran dominance over the solar system, and many other colonies used Earth's preoccupation with Mars to declare independence. It's how the four Jovian moons came about today as well. Even Mercury, with its non-existent navy, felt confident enough to cut ties with Earth."

For a while, Mercury kept to itself. The fanatics who were in control of the levers of power worked to consolidate their theocratic rule. While much of the lower classes lapped it up, the middle and upper classes remained resistant to their influence.

"Not everyone on the rock is an idiot. The Solarites didn't push the gentry and the military too hard. They knew that moving too hastily would result in civil war. So they made peace with them instead, and went for the long approach, simply content to wait decades for the families to fall in line with their overwhelming culture."

Some did eventually fall prey to the radical ideology, but many others stubbornly clung to their roots. Since they usually proved to be the most competent of the lot, the Solarites didn't make a move on them. Instead, they focused their efforts elsewhere, towards an expansion of their religious movement.

"They started with Venus first, of course. They sent missionaries to the Paradise Planet and preached the ascendancy of the sun. The Venusians didn't take it very well, since the missionaries were pushy and their doctrine regarded all planets other than Mercury to be of lesser status due to their distance with the sun."

Yet, aside from a few unpleasant incidents, Venus was content to let religious freedom stand. Time passed, and all seemed well in the universe, other than the occasional conflicts between Earth and Mars and a few other backwaters. Then the Mercurians declared war on Venus.

"The leaders of the Solarite Movement were disappointed that Venus didn't embrace their vision. They took the violent road instead. Secretly they amassed a substantial navy, while small compared to other major powers, could still fight toe-to-toe against Venus' own fleets."

"So how did the war unfold?"

It went well at first due to the surprise factor. However, soon it went downhill for Mercury once the Martians pledged limited support in Venus' defense. Gravitic Catapults didn't exist back then, so it took a while for any expedition fleets to reach Venus, but obviously Mercury knew they were facing a ticking time bomb.

"Mercury's leadership read the writing on the wall, and instead of trying to negotiate for a peace treaty, they went all in."

What Claris described next didn't really horrify Harry anymore. The Mercurians loaded their cruisers with nuclear armament and launched a full-scale assault that penetrated Venus' defense perimeter and allowed the vessels to fire their nuclear armament on the colony. Many fires raged across the planet's surface before the Mercurians were eventually beaten off by the enraged defenders.

"What happened to Venus was monstrous, and it took decades to repair the scars those nukes inflicted on the terraforming effort. A line had been crossed that should have never been crossed in the first place, and the rest of the solar system – even Earth – united against the threat that Mercury posed."

The rest was history. Inexorably, the Mercurians couldn't fend off an entire solar system arrayed against them. The Terran fleets alone bludgeoned their less sophisticated ships into wrecks. Once all space and ground-based capital weaponry were disabled, the Venusians unleashed their vengeance upon the blistering planet, adding their own nuclear fires in the mix, pounding into Mercury's extensive underground network, exposing them to the sun's hot flames along with other deathly radiation.

"A third of Mercury burned by the time the Terrans reined the Venusians in. Mercury didn't quite offer an unconditional surrender, but the coalition accepted it nonetheless, not wanting to tarnish their own honor by wiping the entire planet out."

Mercury remained an independent planet, but was effectively demilitarized, only allowed a few light vessels for anti-piracy and policing efforts. The crimes arrayed against the Solarite Movement meant that their entire leadership were taken away in chains to stand for trial, but that mattered little in the long run as the next generation of fanatics quickly filled the gaps. Over the course of centuries up to today, Mercury never again made any aggressive move towards other powers. They felt bitter about their defeat, but knew better than to lash out. Instead, their society developed into further isolation, diverging more and more from the rest of the civilized solar system. The other powers were content to leave the troublesome planet alone.

"I see now." Harry murmured. "So you came from one of the few military lineages that still has a place in Mercury's diminished navy. That makes you special."

She nodded, though reluctantly. "I was groomed for a career in the navy, same as my older siblings." Her eyes turned dark as soon as she mentioned them. "But once it was my turn, I didn't adjust as well as the others. I performed well enough in the academy, focusing on communications and sensors while taking additional classes on leadership. Yet when I arrived at my first posting on a frigate, I finally learned the navy had become something opposite to the ideals of my grandparents."

A silence fell, as Claris refused to elaborate exactly what she found disturbing.

"That's still a large jump from ending up as a pirate in Jupiter."

Her smirk was faint. "That's a story for another time. I don't want to discuss it right now."

Though Harry eagerly wanted to learn more, he didn't want to push his new accord with his favorite subordinate. They fell silent, leaning against each other to bask in each other's presence. That Harry felt completely at ease in her company said much about their compatibility, but he wasn't prepared to take the plunge. His nagging conscience – the part that still existed despite the crap he endured – still felt he would be betraying his long-dead wife. Worse, he might be ruining things with his current spouse, Amande. Though he felt no passion towards the noble young lady, he still felt a sense of misplaced duty to see their marriage bear fruit. Exploring his feelings with Claris felt a betrayal of that promise.

So his thoughts swirled elsewhere instead. Not at the approaching situation with Vlessing Base, but at Claris' description of her former nation's history. They were an aggrieved folk, much like him, and they had a bone to pick with the rest of the solar system. Sure, they might be ruled by crackpots, but that only meant they were easier to fool. A nucleus of a plan formed within his mind, though he didn't voice them out loud. Not yet, not now.

* * *

Doctor Selner quietly entered Professor's Zhang lab and took a seat at a nearby chair. Zhang grunted at her direction, occupied with interpreting a microscopic image. His slave-collared academics that he kidnapped from Callisto were all sullenly engrossed in their own duties. The professor acknowledged her, and motioned his unwilling assistants to leave the lab.

"You've been visiting me more often lately. Is Harry not giving you as much attention anymore?"

She let out an irritated snort. "You can save the snark. I just need a conversation with someone who isn't a Neanderthal. What are you doing, by the way?"

The former professor continued to study the output feed that seemed incomprehensible even to her. "Commodore Harry ordered me to prioritize research into a way to shield his magic from nEMP."

"Have you made any progress on that?"

"More than I hoped, but we're still a long way from synthesizing an effective solution. Right now, the.. colleagues I've borrowed from the West-Jovian University have given me several interesting approaches, and one of them might actually bear fruit. It involves forming a certain kind of alloy made out of extra-solar materials while bombarding it with a set of nEMP frequencies to absorb and neutralize it entirely. Right now, it works, but only at a precise perpendicular angle. It will take a different composition to make it more effective against multiple directions, but.." He trailed off as he spotted Selner's disturbed expression.

"It sounds like you've come quite far already, professor. Tell me though, have you ever thought what would happen if you presented our Commodore with a successful application of your countermeasure?"

He sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't need you to lecture me. I know very well what I'm doing here, and I know the consequences of helping Harry gain more power."

"He's barely adapting to his position of leadership. If he grows too fast in too short of a timespan, he might snap and become a tyrant."

"You should have a little more faith in him, Selner. He's not the vulnerable young man he appears to be. He's a fighter."

"Exactly. You're just feeding him more excuses to kill people indiscriminately if you keep nurturing his obsession against these foreign wizards he seems to be harboring a grudge against. You're no better than the weapon manufacturing megacorps."

That made the man laugh. "I suppose I'm guilty of being part of Harry's military-industrial complex, aren't I? Don't mistake me, I have no illusions of Harry's penchant for violence, but he's not.. as bad as you make him out to be. When you really get down to it, he just wants to be left alone. You can't say the same about these other wizards and witches, who may have in fact manipulated our so-called 'muggle' society for centuries. Have you studied Harry's descendants? A lot of the organized bloodlines are major shareholders in many of those weapon manufacturing megacorps. It probably won't surprise me if we find out a significant portion of today's technology is derived from their understanding of magic."

Selner was taken aback from his opinions. "I thought you were on my side."

"I care nothing about sides." Zhang shrugged. "My interests in Commodore Harry is that he's the only wizard in the solar system who actually masters his craft, and isn't afraid of showing it to me. I am doing groundbreaking research here, generating knowledge that will benefit all of mankind once the need for secrecy is over. In contrast, all those other transhumans hiding out there have hoarded their insights for themselves for centuries. That's unforgivable. We could have advanced our civilization by leaps and bounds if academia knew as much about the phenomena of magic as I did in the first month in Harry's presence. So you see, Selner, I don't see Harry the way you do. He's a resource, not a storm."

"My efforts.. are not futile."

"That's debatable. But what's apparent, doctor, is that you can't stand in the way between him and what he wants. Right now he wants to take back what's been stolen from him, and violence is unavoidable. The only thing you're accomplishing is to steer him a little to the left or right, but he will reach his destination in the end, with or without you."

The rebuke arrived hard, especially because she knew it was true. She wondered at her past actions. Could she have done any better? She steered him away from a career in piracy. That at least she could count as an accomplishment. Yet his aspirations for power didn't withhold him from participating in this awful war. He had already rained down a torrent of destruction upon the world of Callisto, with Io's blessing. _'Am I responsible for that course of action? If I hadn't encouraged him to seek an accommodation with Io, he might not have gathered so much influence.'_ That thought troubled her, but she knew better than to dwell on what-ifs.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're not." Her resolve had reinvigorated. She leaned over towards him with a determined expression. "But Harry still needs someone who cares, to pull him back when he's gone too deep. While a measure of conflict cannot be avoided, at the very least I can nudge him to fight for the right cause. He'll run out of enemies eventually. What he will decide to do next is of paramount importance. I _have_ to be by his side when that happens."

Her smile turned sour then. "But not everything is going according to plan. Captain Claris is proving to be a distressingly competent rival."

'_Here we go again.'_ Zhang thought. "What do you want this time?"

* * *

Harry looked up to the immense gorilla-like bulk of an empty assault exoskeleton. The brutish conglomeration of technology and magic sat dormant while a technician performed routine maintenance. He admired its deathly combination of dense armor and murderous firepower. Its two Class III beam laser arms alone could tear through most enemy infantry, while its Class IV shoulder-mounted kinetic rails could demolish any barrier short of ship-grade hull armor. The machine was meant to bridge the gap between heavy infantry and armored vehicles. It was designed to be large enough to act as mobile cover, yet small enough to fight effectively in shipboard combat.

Only the fact that they were slow and expensive to produce limited him to carry only one squad on his ship. "Carry on." He said to the technicians, and left to inspect another piece of equipment. The _Immortal Marauder_ and the _Mirrored Abyss_ together with both their fleet elements were due to arrive at Vlessing Base in days, and he wanted to make sure every piece of equipment was ready to deploy. According to the strategy sessions Claris conducted together with Gloria, the difficulty won't lie in the pirate ships that were present at the base. A significant number of them were already in Gloria's pocket, and were ready to unleash chaos when the time was right.

No, it was the base itself that presented a challenge. While not as well-armed as the much larger Trindebal Station, Vlessing Base was still a fortress in its own right. A scattering of destroyer-grade triple-barreled beam laser turrets could stop any attempted invasion well before they arrived in effective combat range.

This ruled out a direct assault.

Instead, Gloria and Claris both agreed that covert infiltration and sabotage provided the best option of taking the pirate base intact without suffering severe losses themselves. In order to pave the way for a successful naval intrusion, they needed to disable all the turrets and create a sizable blind spot in the fortification's coverage.

There was a lot of uncertainty involved in the attempted invasion. They didn't know whether Pierre's mercenaries were still on his payroll, or if they shifted their allegiances to the Callistoan Mafia. Even more disconcerting was word that Admiral Black supplied additional troops to defend the base's interior. They had to go through a lot of dead bodies before those beam laser turrets were secured.

After silently finishing his observations, he turned to another area of the armory, where Professor Zhang together with a team of Ioan engineers prepared a single, customized suit of battle armor. "How's my new suit, professor?"

"You know my thoughts on the prototype." He replied as he typed in a string of last-minute adjustments to the internal programming of the suit. "The nEMP-negating material isn't ready yet. All it might do now is mitigate some of the damage."

The unadorned armor shone in a strange blue-tinted reflection at him. The whole suit of armor was relatively light and thin compared to the mainstay of what marines wore in battle. Unlike them, Harry had no use for conventional armor, preferring instead to rely on his shields and other magic. The angular construction before him might have consisted of several composites that absorbed kinetic impacts and dispersed heat, the main feature of this prototype was Zhang's nEMP shielding.

While existing materials such as the one that made up the Maddie's double-lined hull were also known to have an nEMP dampening effect, none of them have been translated into a smaller scale, up to now. Those conventional materials merely blocked nEMP radiation when they were sufficiently thick, while Zhang's material worked regardless of how thick it was. As best as Zhang could explain it, nEMP mostly consisted of energy in the higher dimensions, and when absorbed, they didn't leave behind heat or any other sort of measurable residue. They simply.. disappeared, broken down into a chaotic and unfocused mix that was no different than the background noise.

After a short preparation, Harry let himself be suited. Assistants buckled the armor along his body until he finally fitted in the helmet. When the display booted up, a strange nozzle of some sort attached itself to his artificial eye, scaring him almost out of his wits. "What the?!"

"Oh, it's nothing." Zhang said. "It's just a standard interfacing module that connects your implant to the suit. It will help you control your armor."

It took some time to get used to the strange attachment stuck on his face and see through a different version of augmented reality. His normal vision was interposed by floating text and other indicators, which could be helpful in a chaotic battle when he couldn't take the time to analyze his surroundings. He also spotted an indicator that projected the current status of the suit.

"Hmm.. flexible enough." Harry remarked as he rolled his joints and walked around. "It's heavy."

The professor shook his head. "That can't be helped. If some nEMP attacks do make it through the plating, you don't want your armor's internal engines to malfunction."

He'd have to deal with it, especially since the material was resistant to his own magic as well. He couldn't charm it into becoming stronger. Zhang explained that magic had a tendency to come apart when coming into contact with the material. Tiny openings on his armor and a well-designed wand holder along his forearm still allowed him to cast any magic he wanted, so long it didn't directly affect his suit. That was a concession he gratefully accepted. _'Better some magic than none at all. People are beginning to figure out that I'm weak against nEMP. I can't let it become my Achilles heel.'_

Zhang held up a metal backpack-like construction. "We've designed your mage armor with several slots where you can attach additional equipment. Your back has a rectangular gap where this pack will fit."

He went around Harry and carefully slid the pack in place. "This is the only pack we've produced so far. The intelligence reports on this Pierre figure suggest that he favors arming his mercenaries with beam lasers, so I've designed this module off the Assault Squad's heat wells." By heat wells he referred to the now-ubiquitous term of pocket dimensions filled with a large amount of coolant. "If your magical defenses somehow fail, the pack will prevent you from being cooked alive, as long as you give your suit time to shunt away the heat."

The boy nodded, understanding the danger. He had no intention of exposing himself to such firepower.

"Other packs are in the works as well. One of the ship's armorers is finalizing a design that features a gravitic module, which will lighten the load of your armor and provide you with increased mobility. We're also working on a non-mage version of your combat armor to take advantage of these packs, but that will not be ready for at least several months before we're ready for mass production."

All seemed satisfactory. "Very well. You've done a marvelous job, Zhang. But don't forget that your work on neutralizing nEMP takes precedence over all these other side projects you have in mind."

"Understood, sir."

Harry left the armory with his suit still stuck on him in order to get used to the heavy motions. The weight was a nontrivial concern. If he wasn't careful, he could tire himself out. _'I'll need to use a hoverpad or something else to travel longer distances. Running around on foot is not feasible.'_

Nevertheless, he was still pleased by this new invention. Besides providing the magic for the heat well, his subordinates came up with every other aspect of his suit. He recognized that his task force, his own personal dominion, was growing more autonomous. He hardly needed to be on top of things anymore, especially with capable subordinates such as Claris by his side. His organization consisted of many arms, but all of them labored in one direction for one common goal.

While the threat of losing control was still ever-present, Harry started to gain an increasing amount of confidence in his own leadership. If he wanted to take back the stolen half of his magic, he needed to grow comfortable with commanding legions of subordinates and allies. Star had already sent her first missives to a trusted contact in Mars, and he himself had studied Mercury's power structure in his spare time. He had high hopes for both planets. Assuming he could get Jupiter in line, this meant that one-third of the solar system might be fighting under his banner by the time his feud with the Bones line erupted into open conflict.

'_I'm getting ahead of myself again.'_ Harry reprimanded himself. _'First I have to conquer Vlessing Base and have a nice reunion with Pierre Dolohov.'_

This time, he would be bringing some questions to him. The wizard was almost certain that Dolohov had some connection with the magical world. The name couldn't be a coincidence, though he didn't encounter a 'Pierre' in his family tree database. That only meant that he was using a pseudonym, maybe to hide a more prominent wizarding line.

'_The wizards of this age are hiding too many secrets from the universe. I will peal back each and every one of their masks until there is nothing left but flesh and bone.'_

The airlock cycled open, allowing Captain Gloria entry onto his hallowed ship. She smiled enigmatically at his armored presence and lazily threw a salute at him. "New look, huh? Permission to come aboard?"

Not knowing the proper ritual, Harry merely waved his arm and gestured her to follow him to the conference chamber. "I take it your pirates are successful in procuring the necessary cargo ships?"

"Four of them in fact, enough room to fit in all of your marines and my boarders with plenty of additional supplies if needed. As long as the Callistoan Mafia patrols don't scan them too closely, we may be able to sneak aboard our infantry onto the base without trouble. Say, this is a nice cruiser. Why don't you show me your quarters after we're done planning this operation?"

"Fuck you."

The pirate captain's incessant smirk widened at Harry's crude remark. "Have it your way."

* * *

**End Notes:** No comment.


	64. II: Explosive Entry

May 23, 2013  
Not Proofread  
Written By RahXephon [847246]

**Author's Notes**: No comment.

* * *

_**The Star Empire**_

_Explosive Entry_

* * *

Amande of House Antares smiled in satisfaction at the impressive sight before her. She stood safely inside the observer's room of the new shipyard she leased from a much larger shipwright company. While she preferred to conduct Firestorm Solution's expanding business in refitting warships with better armor inhouse, their latest contract simply dwarfed anything they had worked before, including the _Immortal Marauder_. Her deal with Prime Minister Anastasia called for nothing less than refitting half of Io's strategic battefleet with Firestorm's revolutionary armor plating. It was a heavy responsibility, and Anastasia's security forces weren't satisfied with the intense amount of secrecy that Firestorm Solutions was accustomed to. Though she knew her husband might be displeased if he ever learned about it, Amande nevertheless went ahead and allowed Ioan military to assist in the refit. At least they wouldn't see how the armor plating was actually strengthened by house-elves. They only received the end product, and had to weld them in place.

"Impressive, is she not?" A ponderous voice asked behind her, and a senior military officer approached her side. "The _Reckoning of Agamemnon_ in all her kilometer-long glory, this close. Not many civilians are allowed to see her majestic form."

"Her martial prowess is undeniable, Captain Jurgen." Amande complimented, and she meant every word of it. As one of the most powerful warships in the solar system, the _Reckoning_ penultimate Class X armaments could swat cruisers like the _Immortal Marauder_ around as flies. Almost every inch of her structure consisted of precious extra-solar materials, including her impressive outer structure. Now, with the help of the company she led, those defenses would only grow more resilient. Best of all, she stood to make a killing of credits if she fulfilled the entire contract. Already she had more liquidity than she knew what to do with it just from this initial contract. If Firestorm Solutions managed to fulfill the entire order in a timely fashion, her company would receive enough credits to approach Megacorp status.

The flag captain rubbed his white stubble as he gazed at his dormant vessel as thousands of technicians swarmed around her form, locking it down in preparation for the refit. "I must admit, when I first heard about this arrangement, I had my moments of doubt. I'm not a man prone to pursuing the latest fads, my lady. Battleship captains can't afford to be impulsive."

"Yet you volunteered your ship to be the first to be overhauled, I heard. What made you change your mind?"

The man breathed out a patient sigh. "I can't let my feelings get in the way of facts. The test results you supplied went a long way in convincing the pencil pushers, but the most convincing factor is the full report of the _Immortal Marauder_'s performance at Callisto. Your husband's ship wrought an untold amount of destruction with his hybrid cruiser. If he commanded a battleship instead of that little vessel, then it might very well have been possible for him to destroy the battleship that pursued him, and double the amount of destruction he exacted on those dirty Callies."

The remark only made the lady widen her smile. "With an entire fleet, you can make the enemy bend their knees."

"Hmm.. perhaps. This new technology does change some paradigms, but the enemy isn't staying idle either. Intelligence reports indicate the Callisto has something else up its sleeve, a revolutionary new weapons systems that they've been quietly rolling out. It's got the brass worried."

She hadn't heard anything about this before. For a moment, she worried for Harry's safety. _'If he dies, all his magic is gone.'_

"Do you think they can defeat the new armor?"

"Who can say? Technology is merely a means to an end. I'm not that worried about what Callisto has cooked up, and Ganymede is no slouch. We have R&D and companies like yours to counter whatever they are brewing. No, wars are won by men. We only have so many capital ships. Deploying even one is a gamble. Losing one is a disaster. My greatest fear is to be outmaneuvered to a location far from where we are needed."

"Is the battlefleet actually going to deploy? This early?"

"I can't say anything to that effect. Need to know and all that, my lady. Yet there is an undeniable urgency in these refits. Haste is of the essence."

"I understand. I'll be sure to devote Firestorm fully into this project. As soon as our existing contracts with other clients finishes, I'll be sure to divert them to this project."

Captain Jurgen nodded in satisfaction. "I think it is not an exaggeration to say that the war may be decided by how quickly you can complete these refits."

"Let us hope it will not come to that. Besides, the bonus I'll receive for early completion is quite handsome." Her smile turned predatory. "You can count on us to be ahead of schedule. There is no way I'm letting that much credits slip through my fingers."

* * *

Commodore Harry waited patiently inside the sealed cargo container in full gear. His infrared vision effortlessly picked out his First Squad headed by Sergeant Castia along with their pirate counterparts who were sitting at the opposite end of the enclosed space. Captain Gloria leaned back lazily in her own customized suit of battle armor. Unlike Harry's thin and relatively light protection, Gloria opted to go in with heavy powered armor, completely enveloping her slender form with substantial bulk. It made her much taller than him as well, a fact that constantly nagged at him whenever she stepped over to talk.

'_Almost ready.'_ He thought, using his helmet's visor to tap into a camera feed of one of the stolen cargo vessels. The plan was laughably simple, taken right out of the Iliad. While this trick never had a chance in hell of working against Callisto or Ganymede, the pirates were considerably less attentive to such details. Whatever problems that his and Gloria's crews couldn't prepare for, they simply bribed the pirate patrols to look the other way. For a while, Harry really didn't think that money could get them so far, but with just a few minutes left from docking, he grudgingly had to concede Gloria's point.

"The moment we step onto the docking platform, you'll be taking orders from me." Gloria stated, her heavy helmet peering relentlessly on his form. "Sorry kiddo, but I've been doing it for years, and I know this station best."

Harry merely grunted, not bothering to argue the point. That didn't mean he was going to roll over. While Gloria's seasoned boarders were well-drilled and enjoyed years of experience, much of his own men were military professionals using superior magic-enhanced equipment. If his partner ever planned to betray him, she would receive a nasty surprise or two, especially since he held his Assault Squad in reserve, ready to drop into battle with a quick portkey summon.

"Docking in two minutes." The helmsman of the transport announced. "No suspicious activity detected so far, but the other transports will be spread out over the docking arm."

That was a minor setback, but workable if they still maintained the element of surprise.

"Hm, surprised Vlessing Base hasn't scanned our interior yet."

"Most of the technicians are still in Pierre's pocket. Admiral Black didn't bother to send more than a cadre of combat troops to reinforce his rule over the pirate base."

Yet what he did send had to be more formidable than the average bunch of independent pirates, that was for sure. All projections so far spoke of a difficult battle ahead, and even Gloria didn't know whether she could count on Pierre's mercenaries to help her side. They might just sit it out, or worse, fight alongside Black's loyalists. It was a horribly tenuous situation that did no one any good, least of all Harry himself.

BOOM!

"Shit!"

"What the fuck is going?!"

More impacts rocked the vessel, and the cargo container almost lurched over the side.

"Helmsman, report!" Gloria hollered over the commandnet.

"We're being targeted by the station's secondary batteries! I can't dock the ship in this condition. I'll have to breach-ram the docking bay."

"Understood." The female captain replied with a snarl under her helmet. Damaging one of the docking arms would cause massive damage and was a bitch to repair. "Do your best and tell the other transports to do the same."

The remaining minute was spent in silence as each trooper prepared to haul their ass out of the container. Since they were about to ram their way inside the docking pier, everyone affixed their helmets and checked to make sure they could operate under zero-G and vacuum conditions. Harry momentarily felt sorry for the people working at the docks, but the standard vacsuits that everyone wore should mitigate much of the loss in life. Every vacsuit was designed to envelop the person's body in the event of decompression, and if they somehow got sucked out into space, the blinking lights running over their forms made them easy to pick out on a variety of sensors.

'_Focus on the moment, Harry. It's almost show time.' _He relished the prospect of battle. Everything was simpler on the field of battle. No words, no trickery, just pure mindless carnage. He readied his revolver, set to a standard _Reductor_. His little Deathstick rested neatly alongside the armor enveloping his forearm. He used the moment to cast a few shield charms on himself, careful not to cast anything directly on his nEMP-negating armor.

"3..2..1.. IMPACT!"

The ship and the containers resting within jerked violently as many thousands of tons of metal and composites slowly breached the docking arm. Though the helmsman approached the spindly construction with a very low velocity, no bulkhead could withstand the insurmountable momentum of a starship. The outer layers of the docking arm parted before the blunted nose of the transport, causing instant decompression as masses of air escaped out of the newly created partition. Scores of unsuspecting dock workers tumbled into the rushing air, many of them slamming against crates or other debris on their way out into open space. Not many survived the ordeal. The same happened again and again along other locations as other ships rammed themselves a beachhead.

Utter chaos reigned the now-vacuum exposed docking area as the pirates and marines streamed out of their wrecked ships and into the almost-powerless state of the docking area. They encountered very few resistance so far as most defenders nearby were stunned by the sudden invasion. Gloria's fast-moving raiders quickly overwhelmed the few that posed a threat.

"The docking arm is secure, ma'm!"

"Good." Captain Gloria exulted as she strutted down the ship and onto the station. "Gather all of our men and prepare to breach the entrance into the station proper in five minutes. Don't give the defenders time to prepare a defense."

Ground forces from both sides marched quickly towards the gate with a variety of gear in hand. Harry noticed with grudging admiration that Gloria's men were all moving with disciplined purpose, as if this was just another boarding action. His marines, though no slouches themselves, obviously weren't the best that Io had on hand. Some were still shaken by the impact, others were staring listlessly at the floating bodies leaking frozen blood. For many, this was probably their first real combat action. Grinding his jaw, Harry switched to a channel reserved for his troops.

"Quit dawdling and get into position! You're marines, not children!"

The marine officers quickly picked up the slack and herded their subordinates into order. Harry kept a leisurely pace, even stopping to commandeer an idle hoverpad. _'Damn this armor is heavy. I've got to save my strength whenever I can.'_ Gloria on the other hand kept walking, probably feeling disdainful at Harry's show of weakness.

"What the situation?" Gloria asked one of her officers that had gone ahead to take stock.

"It's not looking pretty, ma'am. We reached the modular detachment sites and disabled the explosives before whoever is in charge here decided to blow the entire arm off, so we're stable. The gate however is heavily reinforced. There's no natural cover around here and all side entrances have been collapsed."

"Looks like the defenders here are competent."

The man nodded at that. "Our scans detect a large amount of emissions on the other side of the gate. They've got heavy weapon platforms, Class IV beam lasers I think, and a steady amount of reinforcements."

'_Damn. Class IV beamers were nothing to scoff at. They can rip infantry to shreds.'_

Meanwhile, Gloria scratched one of her fingers along her thigh, making a soft scraping sound. "Damn, I was hoping Pierre could have taken care of that. What's their troop composition?"

"A mixture of mercenaries and mainline Callistoan Mafia troops."

That presented further difficulties. They couldn't avoid fighting Pierre's troops, and they were up against soldiers with experience and equipment on par with Gloria's crew. Harry knew this fight was going to be different. Instead of fighting undisciplined rabble, they were going to go up against trained infantry who knew what they were doing. Assaulting this fortified position was going to be costly.

"Alright, the heavy beam laser emplacements will need to be taken out immediately." Gloria explained as she studied a holo projection of the local area. Her head then trailed lazily up at Harry. "Commodore, do you have any heavy ordnance that can handle this problem?"

He grunted. "I may have a thing or two." The boy then turned to Sergeant Castia. "Take care of it."

The head of the First Squad acknowledged the command. "I'll notify the demolitions squad."

While Gloria started to arrange their combined forces for the assault, a group of Harry's men carrying an assortment of strange gear came forward. Harry vaguely recognized a few bits and pieces that his armory officer forced him to enchant, but he never really paid attention to the components he altered. He simply relied on his boffins to make the best out of the possibilities his magic presented to them. Now it was time to see a part of his effort into action.

After a short moment, Gloria hunkered back to Harry. "My men have taken control of the gate control. On my word, it will retract upwards, though I don't know how fast it will be. Regardless, instruct your demolitionists to take care of the beam lasers immediately, or we'll get cut down fast."

"It will be taken care of." Harry replied arrogantly, ready to interfere with his magic should the new toys fail to make the desired impact. "What will we do after we overrun their position?"

"No sense in rushing things. The place has good cover so we'll designate it as our staging area. It's well enough inside the base that the ships outside don't care to bombard at it less they want to decompress the entire base. After we get our shit together, we'll split up as planned and send detachments to each capital beam laser turret."

As soon as the final touches were in place, the assault was ready to begin. Gloria gave the word to commence the attack, and immediately a set of engines screeched to retract the heavy metal gate that led into the base proper. As soon as the gap was as high as a man, a series of thick beam lasers from a variety of directions washed over the makeshift barricades their men set up. The empty containers and other junk the men scrounged together quickly withered under the focused barrage, burning men and women into crisp before they could even return fire.

"FUCK! BLOW THE SONS OF BITCHES INTO MERCURY!"

Some of Harry's demolitionists deployed a strange contraption on the ground, which had expanded into what looked like a mounted missile launcher. While the specialists had spent more than a minute to program the device, they only needed a few more seconds to confirm their targets visually and press the command to launch their ordnance.

Huge streaks of white-hot flashes erupted behind the tubes as the missiles rocketed forward with incredible speed. The beam lasers, all automated though guided by human operators, could have shot all of them down before the missiles even left their tubes if they were fully automated. Unfortunately, the humans sitting behind the turrets didn't nearly have the necessary reaction speed to change their targets. All missiles instantly hit home, and despite the heavy cover reinforcing the beam lasers, the resulting clustering detonations systematically chewed or mangled through the formidable barriers in the span of a second or two. Both friendlies and hostiles instantly hunkered down as a rain of debris – and body parts – flung in all directions.

After the immediate explosions died down, the troops began to recover from the ordeal. The enemy, though strung out in a half-circle, suffered much worse from the blast waves due to their proximity, and took much longer to get their act together. Harry recovered quicker than most due to his extensive battle experience. He rounded towards one of the demolitionists who began to dismantle his portable missile platform.

"Goddammit fuckwit, don't you have a sense of overkill!?"

The armored woman cowered from his attention. "S-Sorry sir, but the Hydra missiles can't be dialed down!"

Dismissing the specialist, Harry reminded himself to suggest his weapon designers not to stuff his pocket dimensions to the brink with explosives. Soon enough Gloria approached his position under cover, and strangely enough, she raised her gauntlets and dared to open her helmet. She took a deep breath through the nose and widened her smirk. "That was mightily impressive, Commodore Harry. Are you overcompensating, perhaps?"

"What are you doing, Gloria?!" He hissed back as the volume of gunfire increased. "The fight's not over yet!"

She continued to taunt him with that incessant smile. "Oh don't be such a worrywart. The explosions concussed most of the defenders. They don't stand a chance of holding their ruined positions anymore."

"…Fine."

Her prediction neatly came true, as the remaining opposition crumbled before Harry and Gloria's largely intact shock troopers. The mercenaries weren't stupid; rather than stay and defend a losing position, they retreated in haphazard but relatively organized order. Gloria declined to pursue them, knowing there would be ambushes waiting for them in the station proper, which was built like a miniature city.

"Alright, let's move on to the next phase of the plan." She said once she was satisfied with securing this position. "Split up into your designated teams and go after your objectives."

At her word, a significant portion of the assault force split off into chunks and went their separate ways, going after the beam laser and power installations spread throughout the ship. Harry and his First Squad stayed behind along with Gloria and her chosen elite. After putting a subordinate officer in charge of coordinating the groups at this makeshift headquarters, she turned to Harry and motioned him to follow along.

"What is it?" He asked when he saw that she was marching straight into the center of the base. "I thought we were supposed to take out the command center."

"Change of plans, kiddo. I don't like the way Pierre's goons welcomed us inside. We're heading straight towards his mansion to find out what the fuck is going."

Oh hell no. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Gloria. That wacko's mansion is a madhouse, and it's likely to be better defended than anywhere else."

His objections brushed off her contemptuous posture. She crossed her arms over her armored chest and leaned into him with her menacing helmet. "Until you grow a pair, do NOT take that tone on me. Attacking his mansion has several advantages. First, because it's his personal mansion, we can expect it will be guarded by his household guard. If they attack us as we approach, we'll _know_ for sure whether he's still in my camp. Second, attacking him directly will make him or the local Callistoan boss divert troops from the heavily guarded beam laser turrets."

As much as Harry disliked this course of action, he couldn't summon any reason to suggest an alternative. And it sounded something like he'd do himself. If only Gloria hadn't suggested it in the first place, it wouldn't have left such a bad taste in his mouth. "Alright, we'll do it your way. But the moment we get into trouble, we pull back."

"Naturally."

* * *

The entire pirate base burned from within. Small arms fire whizzed back and forth between streets and internal structures as the invaders pushed back the flatfooted defenders. Despite their numbers and their overall competence, the element of surprise caught their commanders off-guard, causing them to send confusing chains of conflicting orders.

On the other hand, Harry and Gloria's troops made the most out of their relentless push. They spent a significant part of their heavy ordnance and guided projectiles to destroy the barracks they could reach. The disarray they caused allowed them enough space to reach the entrances of most of the targeted beam laser turrets, but that was where they hit a wall.

It was fairly obvious what attackers were going after. The defense of the beam laser turrets was paramount, and the pirate forces allocated most of their troops to defend the turrets themselves from sabotage or control. The defenders were heavily entrenched and this time the demolitionists couldn't clear out those positions without harming the integrity of the turrets themselves. Gloria needed those turrets intact if she wanted to have any chance of holding Vlessing Base against retaliation.

So the assault grinded to a near-halt as the attackers carefully chipped away at the formidable defenses protecting access to the turrets. Yet no matter how much cover the defenders enjoyed or how many fixed weapon emplacements they could bear on the enemy, they were no match to Gloria's battle-hardened veterans and Harry's well-equipped and professional marines. For the veterans, it was just another job, and for the marines, they quickly fell into a routine once they found out it resembled one of their many training simulations. Slowly and surely, the enemy pirates would lose control over enough beam lasers to generate a sufficient blind spot in Vlessing Base's capital ship defenses. Once that happened, the Callistoan Mafia had to give up on the station.

Yet that did not hinder Gloria in her eagerness to confront Pierre Dolohov face-to-face. She led her small detachment quietly on foot towards the center of the station. While they could have just stolen hovercars or hovertrucks to reach their destination faster, Gloria refused to do so, arguing that it would make it pathetically easy targets for guided missiles. That meant that once they finally neared their destination, Harry was drowning in his own sweat from carrying the unbearable weight of his unpowered armor. _'Merlin, I should have stuck with my old suit.'_

Well it was too late now, so Harry slumped his tired body over to Gloria. The imposingly armored woman leaned against the corner of a nearby structure in order to extend a tiny nozzle from her palm – an extendable sensor – in order to survey the gleaming mansion ahead.

"What's the situation, Gloria?"

She didn't answer immediately. "The palace looks like chandelier, as usual. I don't see any additional patrols. If the mansion hosted any additional guards, then they've probably been redirected towards the reactor of the beam lasers."

That was good, because Harry really didn't look forward to climbing over a mountain of corpses. "So how will we handle it? Will we just walk over them and see whether they'll shoot at us?"

Gloria let out a contemptuous snort. "I can't believe you made it to the rank of Commodore with all the stupidity you spew out of your mouth." She then made a series of odd movements with her arm that indicated that she was manipulating the Heads-Up Display of her helmet. "Years ago, back when I was tight with Pierre and made a few deals with him, I implanted a few of my own men on his payroll. At least one of them should be stationed at the mansion right now. I just need to spot him so I can make a covert laser link with him to exchange intelligence. This might take a while so stay put."

That left Harry and the two squads they brought with them impotent while Gloria sneaked around, trying to go over each and every guard stationed outside in order to spot her man. He wanted to ask whether there might be a chance that Gloria's agent might have defected to Pierre, but thought better than to ask. She'd probably bite back with a snarky reply about how out of depth he was in this whole space combat business. _'Whatever. If it comes between just me and you, I'll kick your skinny ass and give it a second helping of my charm.'_

Thinking dark thoughts about what he might do to Gloria if he decided to ignore the political implications proved to be an excellent distraction. Despite his apparent normalcy, he still hadn't forgotten the incredible humiliation she bestowed on him in that hour-long session. No matter how their alliance unfolded, it was always going to be temporary. Harry took a page from his advisors and bided his time. Right now, it was more prudent to use her like she was using the Io-Europan alliance. Only after he had milked everything of worth from her would he finally crush the smirk from her mocking face. _'I'm not going to let you take over Jovia.'_

"I can't get hold of my contact." Gloria said over the comm. "Either he's inside, or…"

That didn't bode well for this little expedition. Harry growled at the setback and eyed the formidable defenses of the locked-down mansion. "I don't think we have enough men to make a frontal assault."

Before Gloria could pepper him with another retort, a booming voice interrupted their deliberations. "THEN IT IS FORTUNATE THAT WE ARE READY TO DO THE SAME TO YOU!"

A series of explosions peppered their ranks, and only their strengthened armor allowed them to withstand the attacks.

"AMBUSH!"

Caught in relatively open ground, the experienced marines and raiders scattered for cover, any cover, while firing back at the beings shooting them at the rooftops of nearby structures. Gloria ripped open a door and led most of the men – including Harry – inside for a temporary reprieve. The female captain worked up a nasty string of curses as she glimpsed out to inspect their ambushers.

"Mercury, they're Blackguards."

"Anything special about them?"

"They're Admiral Black's chosen elite. They're ex-special forces, all of them, and they get to have the pick of his arsenal. There's not many of them, and they're usually assigned as bodyguards to his most valuable agents."

"So that means someone important to the Mafia is here."

Gloria grimaced behind her helmet. "I don't know who Admiral Black sent, but as long as he's in place, Pierre won't budge."

A flurry of exchanging fire interrupted their conversation. The small group of outnumbered intruders moved through the building and out the other side, hoping to escape the envelopment. However, their path erupted in explosions, and they were forced to slow down to disarm the mines in their path, all the while Blackguards jumped and raced across the rooftops to pierce them with accurate beam laser and kinetic armaments. One of the powerful kinetic projectiles slashed clean through one of his subordinate's arm, causing the wizard to erupt in fury.

"ENOUGH!" He roared, and he whipped out his wand, not caring at all how much he would reveal to Gloria and her lackies. A string of dreadful incantations later, and the lip of the rooftop erupted in violet flames as a potent applications of Fiendfyre scoured through the air in search of victims. While not nearly as many Blackguards were caught in the flames as he hoped for, he bought enough time for their beleaguered contingent to search for better cover.

"Got any bright ideas?" Harry asked with a huffy breath as he began to tire of hauling his armor around.

"Hmm.. the Blackguard have a terrain advantage, and they still outnumber us. We'll have to call for reinforcements."

That would weaken their assault on the beam laser turrets, but Harry didn't care for the moment. "Do so."

As Gloria issued the orders, Harry ruminated over his options. He could retreat, but he was loath to do so. He did not want to be humiliated by that bastard Pierre and whoever he cast his lot with. It was obvious now that the slippery crystal fetishist made his bed with the Callistoan Mafia. This battle wouldn't end until his head separated from his body. They needed to take the mansion.

His partner was of the same mind. "While there's a command center buried deep within the lower bowels of this station, the mansion is probably hosting Pierre and Black's agent. Capturing them and taking the mansion will plummet the defender's morale, and we might even force their surrender. The only problem is actually taking the damn building."

Reinforcements slowly trickled in, diverted from other objectives, and soon enough their numbers swelled to a reasonable strike force. Most important of all was the Assault Squad that Harry portkeyed in from a secluded room. Their arrival impressed Captain Gloria and her men.

"That's some heavy firepower. Those kinetic guns might actually be enough to smash some holes into the mansion's walls." Her eyes glowed at that. "We have better options now."

She soon began planning an assault against the mansion, conscious that time might not be on her side, as the enemy hadn't been staying idle. Even now the mansion received their own batch of reinforcements from elsewhere. Whether it was intended or not, it appeared that both sides had converged to the middle of the station in a decisive battle. Whatever happened here would determine which side claimed victory.

It was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

**End Notes**: No comment.


End file.
